#Tim Drake should always get hugs!

[tim-drake-scholar]

Hey idk if anyone else needed this but hey look at Bruce not just giving his approval, not just giving affection, but truly appreciating Tim Drake and everything Tim has every done to help Bruce/Batman. I just think it’s nice

[missglaskin]

“You’re such a perv!” 

Aka DC Superheroes as pervs; Dick, Jason, Tim, Roy, Wally

Please don't put a community label on this (it will only shadow ban it)

Surely your friend and confidant is not some peeping tom right?!

Warnings/tags; SMUT, female reader, vigilante!reader, Perv shenanigans, panty stealing, masturbation, dirty thoughts, corruption kink, invasion of privacy

Dick Grayson has always been your closest friend; he's the leader, the guy that everyone either wants to be like or wants him for themselves. But the boy wonder had his eyes on you, his oblivious friend. He has always been there, aiding you in missions; always saving the day, or praising you for a job well done. So how could you ever possibly know of his intense desire just for you. Dick knows his actions are downright disgusting, that small voice inside his head filling him with guilt, but his desire is just stronger. 

Missions with you are the worst. Watching you be so confident and just kick ass has him feeling all sorts of ways. Trying to turn away from your line of sight so you won't see his hard-on, his cock rubbing uncomfortably against his suit. Dick will use any excuse to get away, jerking off on the side of a rooftop, a hand against a wall and another stroking his cock, while he imagines it was your hand instead, and that alone pushes him over the edge. 

He'll find a way to make you want him too, Dick knows you're not immune to his charms. Will it be too obvious that when he goes for a hug, it's a little too tight. Is it when he places a hand on your waist pretending to keep you in place, daring his fingers to go further down. Will you push away the hands that place themselves on your thighs to pretend he's comforting you. You won't. Just as you refuse to shove away the fingers that inch closer and closer between your legs. Is it really so bad if you want him too.

--------------

Jason Todd knows he's a sick fuck. What kind of friend is he to even think of such things. But they are just thoughts, right? As long as he doesn't do anything creepy that is. Surely anyone dreams of fucking their best friend-that is, imagining your lips wrapped around his dick while he fists your hair, forcing you to take all of him. The guilt returns when your voice reaches him, asking him if he heard you, interrupting his brief moment of fantasy. He's relieved that the mask doesn't allow you to see how intensely he's staring at you.

It becomes a line he knows he crossed. When Jason found himself staring at your apartment window - he didn't intend to, he was just patrolling and happened to come across your apartment. Knowing you were safe and well should have been his reason to leave, until you started undressing. Seeing your tits exposed made the blood rush to his cock and when you bent slightly to remove your panties, Jason was sure he could have come right on the spot. 

You went to take a shower as Jason entered your apartment. Surely you must know to keep your window locked. Finding himself creeping toward the bathroom as if you were beckoning him in, instead, he stopped and stood over the disregarded clothes; reaching for the panties. Jason would have beaten anyone to a bloody pulp if they had done that, but it was his own reflection staring at him. He is a sick fuck, he thinks as his finger brushes over the damp spot and how he shoves it into his pockets. He's not sure if he should return your panties later, given that he eagerly rubbed his cock with it, leaving it cum stained.

-----------

Tim Drake is a wolf in sheep's clothing; he is the one person you never suspect of thinking such perverted thoughts. Tim is aware he can never justify the things he's doing. He just tells himself that he merely lacks the courage to approach you, not that it's a good reason, but it's enough for him to maintain that tiny sliver of morality. There are moments when he wishes he could just concentrate on his patrolling to keep you off his mind, but you are always there, at the back of his mind. 

Tim realizes he just can't get off without thinking about you. Tim tries watching some porn, but he keeps imagining your face instead of the actress, and he hates how it helped him reach his orgasm. Or in the mornings, when his boner is becoming too much of an issue and he's in the shower trying to rid of it. His thoughts wander to picturing you in front of him, bare and wet, with your back against the glass walls and you moaning his name. 

If there was ever a time that Tim was made known that he was really sick was that day. Him laying in bed stroking his cock and seeing the phone ringing in the corner. It's you. He ought to have just let it ring or decline, but Tim didn't know what possessed him to answer the call. Your voice is heard as he bites his lip to not let his whimpers be heard, tasting copper on his tongue. Tim moves the phone further away when he reaches his high, cum covering his hands and stomach as he continues the conversation, hoping you don't hear his ragged breath.

-----------

Roy Harper was the one person you could always confide in. He had a way of cheering you up, your tears dried as your laugh echoed throughout the room. How you consider him to be your closest friend and best partner in crime as you speak to him, while Roy thinks of how the low cut of your shirt gives him a good view of your tits from an angle. When you call his name to get his attention, Roy gives you that smile of his as he uses an excuse to use the restroom. 

Roy loves taking pictures of you. You knew Roy had them, just never imagined he would have them in his sights while he jerked off. Pictures of you with a skirt had Roy fantasize about wearing em while he's railing you from behind. Your face pressed against the pillow while you bubble nonsense, too drunk on his cock. Pictures of you looking up, had him fantasizing of you staring at him with those eyes of yours as you use your mouth, bobbing up and down on his dick.

Unaware too Roy had 'private' photos, all thanks to a few hacking tricks. Roy was occasionally tempted to send you a nude photo of himself, see how you react, and cover it up by saying it was a 'mistake'. Would you perhaps return one or get jealous wondering who it was intended for. Roy gets up, cleaning himself as he’s planning to you meet you later that day. He eyes the slightly crooked tile above his ceiling, storing all the belongings he's taken from his visits to your place. Roy thinks when the two of you are official, he should hide it in a better place.

—-----------

Wally West had plenty of opportunities to hint at his feelings toward you. He liked making flirtatious comments, complaining when he wasn't paired with you during missions, and placing an arm over your shoulders. But you just assume it's Wally's typical self, not noticing his hurt look when you claimed to be "just friends". Then again you never noticed his hurried departure and quick return, where he avoided making eye contact at all costs.

Wally feels the guilt the most. He could have just confessed to you like a normal person. Guilt consumes him when he sees your gullible smile, unaware of the horrible things he did behind your back. It's not his fault really; he was invited to your place and was simply looking around until he found a certain drawer. Wally reassures himself it's not that bad if he only takes one. But it gets to a point where you're complaining to Wally about how your clothes disappear (not telling him which kind).

A point comes where Wally reaches his breaking point. The sneaky pictures, lying on your bed when you weren't around, face in the pillows to inhale your scent could do so little. As he stares at you speaking, Wally makes a move expecting to be rejected, but you kiss him back. He was in heaven, the dreams he had in every waking point coming true. He was where he wanted you to be, on top with you full of his cock, your eyes nearly blacked out as he slams his hips repeatedly into yours. Can you blame him for moving too fast when he has been holding back for so long. 

[dollishmehrayan]

HOW BATBOYS COMFORT INSECURE READER ── .✦

a/n: I celebrated my birthday and i had a fun time and tysm to all the people who wished me a hppay birthday (a lot tbh I was shocked and so happy) but this was a request by @cup-of-doodles !! so yeah (enjoyy)

(Tags: batboys x insecure!reader)

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Compliments for Days: Dick would not hold back. “You think I look good? Sweetheart, you’re the real catch here.” He’d follow up with a series of exaggerated compliments, like, “If beauty were a crime, you’d be serving a life sentence.” And then yk he’ll be like your hype man of like this tiktok audio (here).

Goofy Distraction: To lighten the mood, Dick would do something ridiculously goofy, like pretending to be a terrible dancer and saying, “See, you’re already doing better than me.” He’d shimmy awkwardly across the room just to make you laugh but if you cry even more he might feel guilty.

Overprotective Vibe: He’d pull you into a hug, ruffling your hair. “You’re perfect the way you are, and if anyone says otherwise, I’ll literally punch them in the face. Just give me the word.”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Grumpy Compliment: He’d cross his arms and look you up and down, pretending to be unimpressed. “You’re lucky I love you, because damn, you’re fine as hell, and I can’t even look at you without getting distracted. It’s annoying.”

Jokes to Distract You: Jason would then casually add, “But if you keep saying you’re not perfect, I’m gonna start charging you for all these therapy sessions I’m giving you.” His face might be all grumpy, but the look in his eyes is soft, reassuring you.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Logical Support: Tim would approach it in his usual, logical way. “Okay, so you feel insecure about that? Let’s talk it through. Statistically speaking, you’re practically flawless, the ratio between your lips and eyes are perfect with your nose calculating right in the perfect spot.” He’d likely pull out a notebook, listing all the reasons you're amazing, with a dry, humorous commentary.

Techy Distraction: To cheer you up, Tim would start showing you funny memes or videos he’s saved. “See? This is how you should feel—unbothered and hilarious.” He’d give you his best attempt at a cute smile, which might look a bit awkward, but he means it.

Self-Deprecating Humor: He’d then add, “And if you still don’t believe me, let me know. I can hack into the Batcomputer and get a list of all the things you’re absolutely amazing at.” He’d wink, though you know he’s completely serious.

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Confused, but Caring: Damian would be initially confused by your insecurity. “What is this nonsense? You’re perfect.” He’d cross his arms, giving you a disapproving look. “You don’t need to change a single thing. If you insist on thinking otherwise, I’ll have no choice but to lecture you on your obvious superiority.”

Unintentionally Hilarious Comfort: In his usual serious tone, he’d continue, “Whoever made you feel insecure is an idiot, and I will make them regret it. Though, I’ll do it in a proper way, without any unnecessary violence—unless it’s truly necessary.”

Small Gesture: Despite his serious demeanor, he’d take your hand, pulling you closer with a soft, “You are the best thing in my life, and I will ensure you never forget that again.” (Then he’d mutter under his breath, “And if you need more reassurance, I’ll just have Alfred tell you how amazing you are again.”)

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Stern, But Loving: Bruce would give you a soft, stern look, his voice gentle but firm. “You don’t get to think that way, not about yourself. Not ever.”

Overprotective Vibe: He’d pull you into a hug, patting your head like he’s telling you a secret. “If I’m going to let anyone be insecure, it sure as hell won’t be you.” His touch would be gentle, that way he makes sure you feel seen and heard.

Dry Humor: He’d add, “Now stop trying to make me talk more than I need to. But if it makes you feel better, I’m always here to remind you how amazing you are, even if I have to do it in my very limited free time.”

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Batfam finding out Tim has a partner they didn't know? I'm talking like a year at most. 👀 He wasn't even trying to keep them in the dark, it just never came up(his words) and his partner, hilariously I imagine, gets along w damian well.

Since When?! Tim Drake x Reader

wc: 0.8 K summary: Batfam finds out Tim has a partner warnings: none, no y/n used a/n: have fun reading it, I tried my best to make it entertaining and not cringe at the same time. enjoy!!

Laying in Tim‘s arms after a stressful week always felt like heaven. It was safe and soft, wrapped up in his familiar scent and getting to hug and squeeze him as much as you want. Usually, you don‘t worry about some of his family members walking in on you two cuddling up on his bed, and neither did you today. It was as normal as ever. However, when you heard some sounds from downstairs you tensed up. Tim soothed you by rubbing your back and whispering some reassurance to you. Internally, Tim was panicking.

Nothing ever is happening around the Manor, so why would something be happening now? Bruce should be in the batcave or somewhere else, Alfred is minding his business and there shouldn‘t be anyone else in the house… unless someone decided to pay a surprise visit.

»Hey, Timmy!«

The door swings open and his eldest brother appears in the doorframe, making you tense again and freeze in your partners arms. Dick also freezes and realises that this is a private moment he just interrupted. A private and intimate moment between his younger brother and, most likely his partner.

He straightens up and clears his throat, still standing in the doorframe for some reason.

»Uh, Tim? I… I should get going, huh?«

An almost awkward chuckle leaves Dick before he quickly closes the door with a slam and makes his way downstairs in a new speed record.

All you can hear is a yell from outside and the heavy footsteps of his brother. It‘s muffled but you can still hear it from Tim‘s room.

And a moments later, there are more sounds and more yells, and screams errup from outside the room.

Embarrassed, you sit up and lean off of Tim, looking both confused and slightly scared.

»Was this your brother?«

»You are about to meet the rest of them.«

He mutters back and also sits up with a sigh. You watch him run his hand through his hand tiredly, assuming this will get more chaotic than it already is.

»Is this your date?!«

The door literally slams open again with more force this time and there stands a blonde haired girl, excitement and curiousity written all over her face and body language.

Tim cringes beside you, his ears growing increasingly more red.

»That‘s… my partner.«

He admits and rubs the back of his neck, revealing your relationship with him. The jaw of the girl goes slack and she runs away to probably collect the rest of the siblings.

Moments later, the room is packed with all his siblings and they are too curious for their own good. Some teasing questions drop but also more personal questions aimed at you. You try your best to answer them all and won‘t let anyone get left out on accident.

The most asked question was probably, »Since when are you two even together?« and, »Why didn‘t you tell me?!« aimed at Tim.

He really tried to step in and explain it all calmly, but they didn‘t let him. It was amusing, seeing them interrupting each other and talking over each other some times, as well as straight up ignorimg Tim and only focusing on you. All of his siblings are pretty unique in their own way, everyone seems to be alike but also completely different at the same time.

One sticked out in particular and it was the youngest of them all. Damian, you soon found out after Tim insulted him for asking an annoying question.

He seems to be chill. Genuinely.

Even when it seems like he and Tim have a rocky relationship, he doesn‘t seem to be all that bad. Just a little teasing, but that‘s it.

The visits from now on where a little more entertaining. Every time you entered the manor, someone else than Tim greeted you. Once it was Alfred, then it was Stephanie, before Damian seemed to be the regular person who greets you when you step inside.

Surprisingly for Tim, you two get along pretty well. Tim has a theory that Damian is pretending to be all nice and friendly with you just to piss him off even more. It would make sense, but you don‘t believe in it.

»I am telling you, he does it on purpose! He is never friendly to anyone else except Alfred. Hell, he can get hissy with him too, sometimes!«

»Yeah, I don‘t believe you. He seems like a normal kid to me.«

You shrug casually and it makes Tim even more exhausted. Just… why does it have to be Damian? You could be besties with Dick or even Jason, but Damian is just another level of disrespect.

»Just say you don‘t love me anymore...«

Tim grumbles back after a moment and turns away from you on the bed, his back facing you now.

»Wait— no, I didn‘t mean it like that— «

a/n: In short, I think he would be offended at first and just even more annoyed than before around the Batfamily,but it'll settle eventually. Slowly, but eventually.

←MASTERLIST

[disillusioneddanny]

Postcards and Polaroids

Bruce Wayne sighed as he walked through the streets of San Francisco, his shoulders hunched in on himself. He had been dreading this business trip for days now, and had been doing everything he could to get out of it but Lucius had put his foot down and all but demanded that he go.

Yes, Bruce’s friend knew what going to San Francisco meant to Bruce, knew how hard being in this damned city was but he didn’t particularly care. Not when he still blamed Bruce for what had happened in the first place. The Fox family in general had treated the Waynes differently ever since the event had happened.

Ever since Tim Drake had taken his own life.

Nearly two years later, Bruce still didn’t know how he didn’t notice the signs. Now looking back on it, it was so ridiculously obvious just how badly his middle son had been hurting and Bruce had done nothing for him, had not been there for support, and hadn’t given Tim the love he so desperately needed.

Instead, he had put the Mission first. He had been so consumed in catching up on what he had issued during his time last in the time steam that he had started to treat Tim more like a soldier than a son. Looking back now he knew what he should have done differently.

It was so glaringly obvious to him now how he should have handled things, how he should have handled Tim.

Tim had managed to pull him out of the timestream and Bruce had not thought too much on the lengths that Tim had gone to do it. If he was being honest, he still was not sure how Tim had done it. All Bruce remembered was there was a bright green portal that had opened up before him, Tim had walked out in a suit that was definitely not the Robin suit that Bruce remembered and had taken Bruce’s hand.

He remembered he didn’t even hug Tim as he stepped out to the other side. He just remembered being led to the med bay for Alfred to check him over, remembered that Tim had quietly left the Batcave without a word to a single person in the family and Bruce hadn’t seen him again. At least, not his Tim, he should say.

He had seen Tim’s new vigilante persona Red Robin at least once every two weeks when Red Robin would check in with Batman on how his patrols were going. He would see Tim Drake-Wayne when Bruce was forced by Alfred and Lucius to check in on the going ons of Wayne Enterprises. But he had never tried to take the CEO role back from Tim. In his mind at the time, the seventeen-year-old had been doing so well, he had taken to the job like Bruce had never been able to do and he was thriving.

Or at least, that’s how Bruce had seen it at the time.

He hadn’t noticed the bags that covered the skin under Tim’s eyes, and hadn’t heard the sheer exhaustion that was in his voice. He hadn’t noticed that Tim was slowly killing himself under the pressure of trying to do everything.

He never questioned why Tim stopped coming to family meals. He never questioned why Dick and Damian both refused to talk about him. He never asked why Jason had pulled away from the family again when he had just gotten Jason back before the entire time situation had started.

He had never questioned how Damian had become Robin.

There were a lot of things that Bruce had simply allowed to continue on without investigation and looking back on it now, he didn’t understand why he did. It was never in Bruce’s nature to not question things. He had always been a curious person, even as a child before the deaths of his parents. He had always wanted to know why, when, and how on every single thing.

But for some reason when it came to Tim, it had never even occurred to him to ask.

Jason had been the one to explain why.

Tim had proven himself to be so unbelievably independent, so similar to Bruce in a way that none of Bruce’s other children seemed to be able to do. Bruce saw so much of himself in Tim that he had never thought to ask Tim how he was doing, he had automatically assumed that Tim would say something if there was a problem and that had been where Bruce had screwed up. Considering even now as an adult Bruce struggled with sharing his feelings or letting others know when the world was starting to get too heavy on his shoulders, he should have known that Tim would be the same way.

He had just never expected that Tim would crack under the pressure.

Strong, capable, intelligent Tim who had singlehandedly brought Bruce back when no one else knew how.

Independent, determined, amazing Tim who at just seventeen years old was smarter than Lex Luthor, Bruce Wayne, and Ra’s Al Ghul combined.

Tim Jackson Drake-Wayne who had been Bruce’s pride and joy, his son had been crumbling under the weight of the world and no one had noticed.

It was Tam who had found the body.

None of the bats thought twice about the fact that they hadn’t seen or heard from Tim in days. It was usual for him to go days without checking in. Even as Red Robin he only checked in every two weeks and it hadn’t been that long yet.

Tam had noticed the day it had happened but she had investigated with Bruce and his family first to find out what was going on. When they didn’t have answers she went to find Tim.

She had gone into Tim’s house, a house that none of the bats even knew about, and found Tim sprawled on the floor of his living room, a single gunshot wound to the head.

There was something symbolic about Tim using a gun to kill himself. Bruce wasn’t sure what the symbolism was, had never really let himself look into it more but he knew it had to do with him and he couldn’t bear to try to understand why Tim thought it the best way to take his own life. Why Tim had thought it necessary for him to take his own life in the first place?

They had done all the tests they could, Bruce had turned down an autopsy on the very slim chance of Tim coming back to life but they had proven it was Tim and not a body double or a clone of some sort.

It was upon the family learning about Tim’s death that each member of Bruce’s family had broken down, and had started to blame themselves for Tim’s suicide.

It had started with Alfred the night they had taken Tim’s body to the mortician’s office. In a moment of what Alfred would consider weakness, he had broken down to Bruce. Had admitted how he had not done enough, how he had not tried hard enough to keep Tim in the family. He had quietly admitted to Bruce that he had talked to Dick about admitting Tim to Arkham Asylum while they had been under the belief that Bruce was dead.

He had quietly admitted to not believing Tim, to even going so far as to raise his voice at the teenager and told him to cease with his crusade. Bruce had listened in horror as Alfred explained his role in taking Robin from Tim and supporting Dick into giving the role to Damian. He had accused himself of driving Tim away from the family.

The next had been Dick.

He had been inconsolable from the moment he had learned of Tim’s death. Had been unable to keep himself together long enough to form coherent words much less sentences. It wasn’t until a week after Tim’s funeral that he had finally come to Bruce about it and he had just sobbed. He had explained through broken words and a quivering voice how he had treated Tim worse than any of his brothers. How he had failed the promise that he had made after Jason’s death to be a better big brother.

Dick had been the one to say what Bruce had been numbly thinking himself.

Tim was just so utterly reliable and independent that he had forgotten at times that Tim was still just a seventeen-year-old kid. Not only was he just a kid, he was a kid with trauma, with secrets that none of them had ever known about.

At that point, Bruce had already been slowly unraveling the secrets that Tim had kept close to his chest or only allowed certain people in his life to know about. He had learned about the loss of Tim’s spleen, the strange relationship he had with Ra’s al Ghul and so much more. It was horrifying to know just how much Tim had been carrying on his own but it was all there in Tim’s files, the meticulous reports he kept for himself painted a picture that Bruce had no idea about.

There were just so many different sides of Tim and for being his father, Bruce felt like a lousy human being.

After Dick had finally calmed down to explain how he failed Tim, failed him in so many ways, in the same ways that Bruce had. Bruce had no words for him. How could he tell him that it was okay when they were all still in the aftershocks of Tim’s death, of his suicide?

He had taken his own life and hadn’t even bothered to leave a letter explaining why he had done it. All they had been able to find was a post-it note with the scribbled words “I’m sorry” written upon it so hard that each letter was indented into the pages of the post-it pad.

Instead, he had told Dick that they would both work to be better for the future, for the rest of their family so that no one else in their family would ever experience the kind of pain that Tim had gone through.

The next had surprised Bruce the most.

He hadn’t expected for the silent tears that had streamed from Damian’s face as he crawled into Bruce’s bed one night. He never said a word, never breathed out a single utterance of how he had wronged Tim. They all knew. They had all known the harmful words that Damian had thrown Tim’s way, and knew of each attempt to kill the older boy. Bruce had never said a word about them further than scolding Damian when it had happened in front of him.

He should have done more. He should have punished Damian for his treatment of Tim, and should have done what he could to make sure that Tim knew just how loved and treasured he was. How important he was to Bruce and their family and instead he had allowed the abuse from his youngest son to continue and called it brotherly bonding, assuming that it was just how siblings treated one another.

But he knew that night that he would never allow for another child of his to treat another one the way Damian had treated Tim. He also knew that Damian would never continue to treat others the way he had treated Tim. Knew that the pre-teen saw the way he had assisted in pushing Tim over the age and knew he would never do it again.

Jason had been the quietest in his grief.

He had cut himself from the family once again upon Tim’s death as if the only reason he had rejoined in the first place was because of Tim. It had been a quiet resignation with Jason, no more taunting, no arguments. If a member of the bats did contact the crime lord the conversations were short and sweet with none of the barbs that the family had come to expect from Jason.

It wasn’t until he had found some discarded polaroids in one of Tim’s safe houses that he realized that the two were mending the bond between them. The resigned smirk on Jason’s face besides a beaming Tim spoke volumes to Bruce as he looked at the picture of the two.

The others had all grieved quietly as well, none of them ready or able to talk about Tim, about why he would have taken his own life when he had so much to live for. The Titans had been inconsolable upon learning of Tim’s death, Bart and Conner going as far as to blame Bruce and the others for Tim’s death, accusing them of driving Tim to suicide of all things.

Reflecting now, they were right.

The Wayne family had caused the death of one of their own.

It made times like now even more difficult.

He was in San Francisco for a business meeting, yet he couldn’t help but look out to Titan’s Tower and even two years later briefly wonder if Tim was there. He knew, at his deepest core he knew that Tim wasn’t there yet his heart always hoped.

It had been two years, Bruce had seen Tim’s body with his own eyes and he knew, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Tim was dead. Yet there was a small, hopeful part of him that wanted it to all be an intense mission that required Tim to erase himself from the world. That Tim was just in an intense undercover ops mission.

Being in San Francisco always made him think about Tim, though. Of his adventures with the Teen Titans, of the way he would gush about how the best pizza was found here. How he would always look to the West as though that was where his heart truly was.

Losing a son caused Bruce to be more introspective, to look more back on things and analyze them in ways he didn’t used to.

With Tim he would look back and realize that Tim was never actually happy in Gotham. That the only reason he was even still living in Gotham was for the Mission. He had felt an obligation to stay. Jason had been the one to finally explain to the rest of the family that Tim never saw himself as a member of the family.

That he only saw himself as a necessary cog in the machine. That he was simply there to make sure that the rest of the team was a functioning machine, that he was only there to assist them and nothing more. He had never really seen himself as a part of the family, never imagined himself as Bruce’s son. Hell, he had even gotten himself emancipated when Bruce had gone missing. Bruce could see it now, could see how Tim carefully cut each of his bonds to the family one by one without any of them ever noticing he had done so.

The vigilante shook his head, trying to forcefully clear his mind of the thoughts that were currently plaguing his mind. He couldn’t think about Tim right now. He had things to do, he needed to get lunch, needed to prepare for this damned meeting and then fly back to Gotham as soon as he could so that he would no longer be haunted by the ghost of his son.

He tiredly looked at the others passing by him on the street, the bright and happy faces of people who would never understand what it was like to know that they had driven their son to suicide. Bright happy couples who looked like they knew what it was like to cherish their loved ones.

Bruce did a double take, though, at one man who walked alone on the sidewalk. His dark black hair was covered in a beanie and he wore sunglasses reminiscent of the ones that Tim used to wear religiously. That wasn’t what stopped Bruce in his tracks, though. It was the jacket that adorned the young man’s shoulders. It was a jacket that Bruce had seen Tim wear like a second skin when he wasn’t wearing any of his suits. A gray denim jacket with a few worn patches upon it. One of the Flash logo and one of the Superman logo. But they were never for either of those heroes, they had always been for Impulse and Superboy. He knew that if he looked at the back of the jacket there was a black patch sewn in from where Damian had ripped the jacket after one of his murder attempts.

His legs took control of his body and made their way towards the young man who had stopped to type on his phone.

“Tim,” Bruce breathed out and the man looked up and frowned and Bruce knew he had made a mistake. It wasn’t Tim. He had likely bought the jacket from a thrift store. Bruce knew that they had donated nearly all of Tim’s things after they were certain that he wouldn’t come back from the dead.

The young man looked Bruce up and down for a moment before he gave him a small smile. “No Sir, I’m sorry. I’m Danny,” he said, giving Bruce a crooked smile.

“My apologies,” Bruce nearly stammered out, still unable to tear his eyes from the jacket that adorned his arms. “You uh, you look like my son. He passed away two years ago and sometimes I see him in others.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” the young man said and gave him a sad look. “I hope that wherever he is now he’s a lot happier.”

Bruce just gave him a small, sad smile of his own. “It’s quite alright, it’s been two years. Everyone says that grief will fade with time but I don’t think that’s true,” he said before he shook his head. “I apologize, it seems that this old man is a little more emotional than usual today.”

“It’s quite alright,” Danny said with a laugh, repeating the same phrase Bruce had just given him. “Someone very close told me that grief is love everlasting, it means that even though the person you love is gone, you still love them. You still hold their memory tight to your chest and you treasure them.” Danny furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head to the side. “I think that grief gives us a reason to keep moving forward in life. Because we are no longer living our lives for ourselves, we’re also living life for the ones that we lost in the hopes that they’re proud of us.”

Bruce paused and looked at the man in front of him searching for something, he didn’t know what. “Have you already eaten?”

Danny shook his head. “No sir, I was just headed to a little shop for lunch. Would you like to join me?”

“If it isn’t an inconvenience,” Bruce said hesitantly and Danny just beamed.

“Not at all! My husband just canceled our lunch plans on me so I’d be more than happy to have you join me,” he said. “There’s this pizza shop down the street that has some of the best pizza I’ve ever had in my life.”

“That’s where I was headed, actually,” Bruce said and followed the younger man down the sidewalk, opening the door for his new young friend before the two were seated.

“What was your son like?” Danny asked as they waited for their orders to arrive to the table.

Bruce gave him a brilliant smile, he had never felt so thankful to be asked to talk about his son. “He was amazing,” he said breathlessly. “One of the most brilliant minds I had ever encountered. I remember when he was just a tiny thing and he would come with his parents to galas that I was at and I just remember being so amazed at this little boy and his bright mind. And then I adopted him years later and he just never ceased to amaze me. He was so strong and determined. And he cared so much about the people around him. I failed to realize until after he passed on that the same love for others he did not have for himself.” Bruce was quiet for a moment as he stirred his straw around in his cup for a moment. “He killed himself.”

Danny let out a breath. “I’m sure he sees now, knows just how much you love him,” he said, still giving Bruce that sorrowful look.

“It should have never gotten to that point. I should have made sure he knew when he was alive just how much I love him. But Tim, Tim was always my strong kid. He was the one I never thought I had to worry about because he was just so capable. He was so sure in himself, I mean the things he did, they were amazing. I would have never felt so confident in myself at just seventeen years old, not the way he was,” Bruce snorted. “I’m well into my fifties now and I still struggle with self doubt and I never took a minute to realize that Tim did. I never felt like I had to worry about him and that was my mistake. Because no matter how sure I was in my love for him, no matter how I felt about Tim, that’s not how he felt. And he deserved to get the love and support from his family and not just know that we loved him, you understand?”

The young man nodded his head sagely. “I understand. My parents were similar, they had just assumed that I knew that they loved me, assumed that I knew their jokes were lighthearted and in jest but for me they never were. They were harmful and mean and my parents were neglectful and never cared about my feelings. I don’t talk to them anymore,” he said with a sad twist of his lips. “They don’t reach out either. I-I would have loved for a dad like you, Bruce. But I don’t think my parents will ever realize that it was their fault I left or that I never felt welcome. Wherever Tim is, he’s very lucky to have you as a father. Because even if you realized too late, you still realized it. I doubt mine ever will.”

Bruce gave him a soft smile and leaned across the table to grab Danny’s forearm in a comforting grip. “Your parents are missing out,” he said with a kind smile. “If you ever need anything, call me,” he said quietly before he slipped Danny his card with his personal number on it.

Danny took it and gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”

The waitress soon brought their pizza by and the two fell into a comfortable silence.

“What do you do for work?” Bruce asked and Danny chuckled.

“I’m a mechanic,” he said simply. “I own a shop here in town with my husband. He actually ditched our lunch plans because our supplies truck came in and he wanted to get it done.”

“Oh? Well, if you ever find yourself in Gotham, we would love a mechanic like you at Wayne Enterprises,” he said with a small smile. Danny let out a soft chuckle.

“I appreciate it, Mr. Wayne,” he said and Bruce raised an eyebrow, remembering that he had never introduced himself to the boy. Danny flipped the card to show Bruce’s full name on the card and laughed. “I recognized you the moment I saw you,” he admitted and Bruce chuckled.

“I’m not surprised,” he admitted. “I’m unfortunately a recognizable face.”

“I can imagine,” he said before he stood. “I had a lovely time, Mr. Wayne but I have to get back to the shop before my husband goes insane. I can’t trust him alone in the shop for too long before he gets another hair-brained idea,” he said, chuckling at what was likely an inside joke between him and his husband.

“Of course. It was nice to meet you, Danny, you were a wonderful lunch companion, and thank you for listening,” he said with a kind smile.

Danny smiled and nodded before he made his way out of the pizza shop.

Bruce smiled and sat back in his seat, shoving his hands in his suit pocket as he stared at the spot where Danny had previously been sitting when he felt the sharp edges of something in his pocket. He furrowed his brow and pulled out two pieces of stiff paper. One looked to be a Polaroid picture, the other a postcard.

The postcard read Greetings from San Francisco. It also had a folded-up piece of paper taped to the back that Bruce carefully unfolded.

Hi Bruce,

I’ve written and rewritten this a thousand times. I never knew how to write it. I guess I should say surprise! I’m not dead! I’m sorry for making you and the others think I am. But it was for the best, it was for the sake of my mental health and it was the only way I could get away from Ra’s al Ghul and live my life. Someone I love once asked me if I could do anything in the world without the Mission hanging over my head what would it be? And I realized that I didn’t have an answer. I didn’t know who I was outside of being Tim Drake Wayne, CEO and Vigilante and I realized I wasn’t happy. Maybe one day I’ll somehow reappear in your lives, maybe I’ll be able to share my joy with you and the others, maybe you’ll get to actually get to know my husband. I’m not sure when that will be, but maybe one day I’ll come back. I’ve obviously contemplated it enough considering I even made a point to reach out to you at all rather than let you continue to think I was dead. Which, I’m sorry about. It was the only thing I could think of to get out and I was drowning. If I hadn’t faked it, I would have actually gone through with it, I would have killed myself and been done with it. Danny saved my life when he helped me fake my death. I know you’re angry, I know you’re hurt. But I need you to understand just how badly I was hurting for years. This is not meant to make you feel guilty, I honestly never wanted any of you to blame yourselves for my death. But it’s simply for you to understand that I had my reasons and I don’t regret them. The last two years with Danny have been some of the best times of my life and I’m immeasurably happy.

Please don’t look for me. Don’t look for Danny either no matter how much you want to. I’m happy. I’ll reach out when I’m ready.

Tim.

Bruce wiped the back of his hand against the tears that threatened to spill over as he read over the note once, twice, three times before he finally managed to look at the polaroid picture. On the film showed two men, one holding the other in a bridal position, the two of them wearing wedding bands that they happily showed off to the camera. Tim looked beyond happy cradled in Danny’s arms as they smiled at the camera and Bruce felt some of the heaviness lift.

He wiped at the tear that managed to escape his eyes and looked around, carefully to see if anyone noticed him when he saw two figures standing outside on the sidewalk across the street.

Danny just gave him an awkward smile as the man next to him threw his arm around Danny’s shoulders and from beneath his black sunglasses and ball cap gave Bruce a tiny smile and a peace sign before the two started walking down the sidewalk together.

[existential-crisis-of-the-mind]

Tim Drake as a low key gamer boyfriend

Playing a slice of life game like Stardew Valley together:

He is all about optimisation over aesthetics. Doesn’t fully comprehend why you’d want to spend a day talking to villagers and looking for collectibles over grinding for ore in the mines.

“But think about it babe, once we get enough iron ores for sprinklers, our crops will automatically be watered and we can use our energy to do other things!”

Sucks at the fishing mini game, even after he got the most expensive finishing rod and special bait. He can get very sulky about it but immediately pipes up when you offer to help.

“Oh my god! Can’t believe you caught the legendary fish! You’re amazing at this” he cheers as he envelopes you in a tight hug “Gonna buy an fish tank and add the lil guy to it to commemorate this moment”

Loves playing the multi-player version with you, will happily forgo his efficiency maximisation driven gameplay to goof around with you. Always eager find you rare items and tries his best to bring out his creative side.

“So I had a go at decorating the house. Naturally I wanted to furniture to be colour coordinated, so I referred to the colour wheel to determine a complimentary colour palette and then- wait I’m rambling about an unnecessarily niche aspect again aren’t I?” He’s taken by surprise when you peck his cheek in response, offering him a bright smile “I love when you ramble about unnecessarily niche topics, please go on". 

He flushes bright red in response, mentally cheering about how lucky he is that his partner is always so encouraging and excited about his random deep dives.

Playing Minecraft together:

Will fiercely protect you from creepers and zombies but also kills you the moment you spawn for a laugh. 

Is very invested in building houses, has watched several tutorials on how to make cool builds (will not admit to this if asked). 

“Babe check out the roof on this build, I’ve used a different style of tiered layering, it an interesting technique you see…” 

Always ensures you’re topped up on resources. Brings back lil flowers when he goes off to scope out a new area. Is always excited for you to try out new things in the game.

“Oh my god! Babe look we've hit jackpot and found a ton of diamond- What? Oh no you should be the one to mine it! You’re gonna make your first diamond pickaxe!”

Playing Sims 4 together:

For whatever reason, his skill with Minecraft house builds simply does not translate into Sims gameplay. He cannot construct a decent roof to save his life.

“What do you mean I’ve half assed the roof? No babe come on, it’s a modern build. I made it flat on purpose. Don’t you see the vision??” You raise an eyebrow in response, he pauses for a beat before relenting “Alright fine it’s pretty shit, roofs are hard okay!” 

Tries really hard to succeed at the Rags to Riches storyline before inevitably giving up and using the 50k motherlode cheat.

“Why does my sim have a bored moodlet after making 3 paintings? He’s gotta stay inspired if we wanna make any money!”

Gets way to caught up in the ‘create a sim’ mode

“What do you mean I’m taking too long? I’ve gotta have at least 3 everyday outfits sorted for my sim”

Loves pets in the Sims, spends way too much time cooing at puppies and kittens 

“Oh my god look, this cat is named Mayor Whiskers! He’s the Mayor of this town, we’ve gotta make a good impression”

[devine-fem]

I don’t think ya’ll realize that Damian’s family is not the batfam and before batfam stans freak the hell out, let me explain. His mother will always be Talia, his father is Bruce, his auntie is Nyssa and his grandfather is Ra’s Al Ghul. Plus, he has a brother on his mom’s side of the family.

You guys are way too into erasing the al ghuls way too much for me to be comfortable about it. Like yes, demonize the poc ccharacters and pull Damian into the white man’s club that is the batfam right now.

Like you guys are sooo more into talking about his legless relationship with Tim Drake then you are with Ra’s Al Ghul.

And before you get all “adopted families are just as important as blood families,” I know. But Damian is. not. adopted. You can enjoy batfam fanon but don’t demonize the Al Ghuls for a white man to take the spot where his other brother should be.

So much time could be spent healing their relationship in canon and repairing the character assassination they experienced in the writers room but noooo, let’s keep defending Tim Drake and thinking one hug can wave away every horrible things he did to Damian.

This includes Bruce by the way, like you’d rather replace Bruce with Dick, Talia with Selina, Respawn with Tim and Nyssa with Kate and that doesn’t come off a lil odd to you…?

It’s really just coming off a little racist with someone of you at this point but let me not get into that.

Bonus:

Look at them be soft. It’s good for the skin.

[kayadrake123]

Love 

Tim Drake x Reader long Headcannons

Hey guys! Hope you’re all good. I haven’t posted for a while and I thought it would be nice to make a come back with a long head cannon about you and Tim’s relationship. Here you go! I will be posting more stuff soon!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Contrary to belief, Tim is actually a very affectionate person

And he has different ways of showing it depending on who you are

With his siblings he always makes sure to ask them about their interests and to get frequent updates on their lives 

He doesn’t mind them talking his ear off, even though he pretends he does with them by groaning and rolling his eyes 

Might get them a gift here and there

For example whenever he sees a book Jason may be interested in, he sneaks it into his apartment later that night with a note that says ‘hopefully this will make you leave me alone for a while’ 

He’s just kidding of course

With his friends he does pretty much the same thing, but he makes sure to add in a lot of reassuring hugs with them

Now with you his lover, he’s the softest he has ever been. 

He didn’t even think it was possible for him to be down this bad, I mean he’s been in other relationships but NOTHING will ever compare to the love he feels for you

He finds himself being vulnerable without even wanting to because you just have this effect on him where he instantly melts and feels safe in your presence

He has many love languages, but his main three are definitely physical touch, quality time and acts of service

He wants to be near you all the time

You radiate warmth and beauty and he finds himself being pulled towards you, that’s how you met in the first place 

He loves hugging you 

The feeling of your arms wrapped around him as he clings to you brings him immense happiness 

A hug from you can heal anything and everything 

He has a habit of crossing your body parts when you sit next to each other, with or without people around 

What I mean by this is that you’d be sitting next to him in a booth at a restaurant and Tim would make sure to cross your forearms together on the table where your hand is resting and hold your hand 

He drapes one of your legs over his when you’re sitting next to each other on a couch 

Neck kisses. 

He loves the way you squirm when he kisses you there and the beautiful smile that spreads across your gorgeous lips

He loves when you kiss him on random places of his body, such as his back when he’s facing away from you or his arm when it’s positioned above your head

He loves when you drag the tips of your nails across his arm or his back, he falls asleep to that all the time, especially on the hard nights 

He loves giving you massages, anywhere at anytime 

Whenever you guys go on walks he likes to link your pinkies together because he thinks it’s so wholesome and gentle - you’re both very independent but still want to be close to each other even if it’s the slightest touch 

Always opens the car door for you. ALWAYS 

He actually gets upset if you don’t let him do it 

He will hold your bag for you DO NOT EVEN TRY TO FIGHT HIM ON THIS 

Loves that when you do your nails (if you get your nails done) you ask him what colour you should get 

Loves it even more when you listen to him and choose the colour he chose 

Your feet are sore after walking in heels the whole night? He will pick you up bridal style and carry you. No questions asked. 

At galas when he can see you’re getting hot, he’ll grab a fan that he stored in his suit jacket and wordlessly fan you 

He loves laying his head in your lap and when you stroke his hair

Loves when you give him kisses on the tip of his nose 

When you first bit him he was like ???? What are they doing ??? 

But he got used to it and understands that you get a cuteness overload that makes you bite those you love

If you’re also a vigilante he always wants to be your partner on missions and patrol 

Hates when you get hurt like he actually cries I’m not kidding 

Not in front of his siblings (unless you’re dying or the injury is very severe) but later when you get home after confirming you are in fact okay 

Once you got shot in the knee when he was all the way across town from you on patrol

He dropped everything he was going to see you and make sure you’re okay (bailed on a lead he’s been following for 6 months) 

When you told him you were okay he nodded but you knew he didn’t believe you

The truth is Tim heard your scream over the comms and how in pain you sounded - he also knew you were still in so much fucking pain because your body was tense and with every movement he could see you forcing yourself to not cry out in pain 

Hates to see you upset when he gets hurt and will spend the next few days, weeks if he has to, reassuring you that he is okay 

He worships you. 

In and out of the bedroom 

He takes his time with you, kissing up your legs, your stomach, your chest and then he captures your lips in the most desperate and passionate kiss that leaves you breathless and wanting more of him 

He loves the feeling of your body against his, skin-to-skin 

He always picks positions where he can feel your body against his

He also likes cuddling skin-to-skin 

He thinks you are the most beautiful and amazing human he has ever met and he feels so privileged and lucky to have you as his lover 

He loves being loved by you and he loves loving you 

You help him with a lot of things such as his anxiety, anger and his overcompensating 

Tim wasn’t ever really good at letting people love him, with his parents not being very affectionate and loving with him when he was younger 

He’s always been the one who loves and doesn’t get that love back 

But you, you changed that 

You let him know everyday that you love him and that you genuinely care about him and want to be with him 24/7

You’re his best friend and his soulmate and he will love you till his last breath and even beyond the grave

[batbux]

"Sometimes I forget they're gone."

Bruce looks up from work - a crossword he's doing to pass time until the gas chromatography finishes - and over to where Tim is rolling back and forth in front of a secondary terminal. The steady squeak of his chairs back wheel was almost meditative in a way. He stared up at a blank screen, face only illuminated in profile by the gentle glow of Bruce's own terminal.

"Who is?" Bruce asked when Tim didn't elaborate. For all that this was functionally his home now, the boy had a tendency to occupy space in a way that made Bruce's jaw ache from biting his tongue.

"My parents." Tim stopped rocking and the Cave was as silent as a grave between them. One grave in particular. "Like, something happens and I think, oh, Mom would love to hear about this. Or Dad would get all huffy and rant over something silly and it would be fun to listen to."

Tim, who loved his parents and, arguably was loved in return. He spent most of his time in his room or the Cave, exploring other rooms in the Manor like his parents did archeological sites. Interesting to him, but not a place to be.

"Sometimes I pick up the phone and get as far as putting in their international number, you know?"

Tim, who was parented through phone calls and post cards. Tim, who spent so much of his life in boarding schools that an actual home looked more like a museum than a place to live.

"I'm sorry, bud," Bruce murmured. There wasn't much else he could say, aside from reminding Tim that his father was still alive. Comatose, hanging in limbo, but alive.

Bruce thought it would be easier if Jack Drake died with his wife. Bruce also hated himself for thinking those kinds of things.

"I just keep thinking about Mohenjo-daro," he continued. "We're learning about it in school this unit and I keep remembering- I keep remembering that Dad said he's been there. I can't keep the dates right in my head and he would have helped."

"I can give it a shot," Bruce offered even though he knew it was the wrong thing to do now just as it had been the wrong thing to do when he offered to find a Romani language tutor for Dick when he realized he was forgetting things.

It would solve one part of the problem, but it would never replace the help a father could give.

Tim turned towards him, pale face washed out in stark relief under the light from behind Bruce. He wondered if Tim could even see his face in the relative darkness and found a cowards courage knowing he couldn't.

"He told me a story about it once," Tim said. "I can't remember the ending. I can't remember what he told me. Why didn't I listen better?"

Bruce had no answer for him. He set his paper aside and opened his arms.

Dick would have thrown himself at Bruce, taking comfort where and when he could. Jason would have slunk over and did his level best to press close enough to cave in Bruce's chest and make himself a home.

He was, in hindsight, too good at that.

Tim always hesitated. Weighting the pros and cons? Overthinking a simple comfort offered freely? Bruce never knew.

Still, Tim slowly abandoned his squeaking chair. He let Bruce tug him in for a hug.

Tim was older than Dick had been, around the same age as Jason. Even so, in moments like this he seemed immeasurably younger. Tim, cast off in a prestigious boarding school, had lived comparatively untouched by life's hardest lessons. He signed up for the work, but he couldn't have known how hard it would be. Bruce never should have let him in, but what could he do now? Tim came to him when he needed a partner the most and he was so, so grateful even as regret threatened to choke him.

A beep, then. Bruce's eyes drifted upwards.

"The drugs we lifted from the Iceberg Lounge?" Tim asked against Bruce's neck.

"Yes."

"Show me."

Bruce let Tim out from the protective circle of his arms and did so. The moment lay broken behind them, like so many others.

[brucewaynehater101]

almost every post/fic about Tim's parents(bio, adoptive, parental figures) almost always focuses on his fathers, whether it was in hcs, fics or discussions, but never his mother(s) (sans your acc and a few others), like Tim(especially in the 90s) LOVES his mother, like ALOT, I *need* more Janet Drake & Tim Drake interactions, I *need*more Dana Winter(s?) & Tim Drake interactions.

Part of the reason for this, I personally think, is because they got so little screen time (panel time?).

Janet had maybe five instances (not counting times she was mentioned). Let me know if I missed any or got any of these wrong:

The scence where Tim saw The Graysons

A hallucination/dream when Tim had the Clench

When Janet died

An alternative reality Janet

I think I remember a scene where Tim was walking down the road with her?

Anyways, that's so few in comparison to Tim overall or even Jack and Dana.

Dana was essential for Tim (and Tim and Jack's relationship). She doesn't get talked about as much either.

The Drakes also get a ton of hate and are made into absolute monsters by the fandom. I'm all for AUs, but the relationship is a bit more complex than Tim's parents being assholes. They definitely were emotionally neglectful, but they loved and cared about him. I'm not saying their neglect should be excused or ignored, but they didn't hate their son (although I'd argue Jack was emotionally abusive as well).

Regardless, my main point is that Janet's personality wasn't really built due to her lack of screen time. This is why fanon runs with the cold, powerful Drake CEO Janet hc. I like the hc, but she was shown as caring and affectionate to Tim in the comics.

I definitely prefer Janet over Jack, and I'd be down to for more fanon material containing Dana.

Also, yes. I kind of don't see much material (myself included) chatting about the positive effects of more canon Janet. There's not much about her hugging him, being affectionate, and caring. It'd be cool to see more work focused on how much his mom loved Tim and how Tim misses her so much (also, Christmas Eve angst due to her funeral).

Hmm... This fic has excellent characterization and focus of both Janet and Dana. While it doesn't primarily focus on them, it does bring up Tim's grief with them. This is a "Tim Joins the Batfam late and was never Robin" AU. I highly recommend you check it out (content warning it gets dark):

[igotanidea]

Glimmer: Jason Todd x reader

request: Jason Todd x fem!reader who is optimistic, sees good in people and gives him hugs and kisses when he comes from patrol.

****

She never knew it, and even if she did she would totally refuse to believe it, but there was something in her eyes that always made Jason feel better about world and about himself. A bit.

He met Y/N on one of his night patrols and not-so-surprisingly rescued her from a mugger. Typical Gotham occurrence, but unlike any other citizen of this god-forsaken city she did not seem shaken or terrified or even sad.

“How are you so fine with what happened?” instead of taking off the second the robber was dealt with Jason found himself captured by her unusual behavior

“I’m not” she sighed deeply and her e/c orbs focused on him, making him shake inside due to the intensity of the gaze “I’m not all right with how Gotham affects people. That the poor had to go to the great lengths to survive on the streets while crime lords have everything. I’m not fine with the fact that kids here suffer because their parents abandoned them. I hate that GCPD seem helpless when it comes to dealing with all this shit and vigilantes have to take matters in their own hands.”

“So, pretty much you hate Batman?” Jason scoffed, trying to act casually, not showing how touched he was by the mention of kids on the streets. After all, he was one of them many years ago and the memory of what he went through was still hunting him sometimes.

“I never said that!” she laughed. She laughed a few seconds after a traumatic events. “I admire everything he does. But unlike our fierce protector, I’d rather focus on seeing good in people.”

“Good?” Jason scoffed, his helmet muffling the sound a bit “There’s nothing good in this shithole.”

‘Maybe that is your problem, Red. Your aim is to get rid of the crime lords. Arguably by killing them all off….”

“I don’t do that anymore.” He chimed in

“Then hurting them. Injuring them. Making them remember the pain. I’d rather spread the good emotions. Like in the homeless shelter where I volunteer after work. Or at the child center. You should see the smile on those people faces just because you gave them ten minutes of your time. To talk, to actually ask them how they feel, if there’s anything they would like to do. Elders have so many to say, yet no one ever listens. And children, those poor little souls, who did nothing wrong in their life, except for what’s necessary to survive. A hug or a joke is enough to make them cry happy tears.”

“You’re being awfully optimistic, aren’t you?”

“Can’t help being who I am” she smiled so bright, Jason could swear that it lighted up the whole alley “you should try that sometimes, Red Hood. Anyway, sorry for keeping you this long, bet you have another parts of the city to patrol.” Once again her beaming, hopeful, sincere eyes landed on his face (or rather helmet) “thank you for helping me. I know you do not see yourself this way, but what you do matters. The method may be a bit extreme, but still, I appreciate what you did. What you do.”

“I……” Jason stuttered. It was the first time someone actually said something like that to him. Was he really good in her eyes?

“I gotta go.” She shook he head, hair falling all over her face and Jason had to use all his strength to fight the urge to brush those strands of. There was something about this girl…. ”Stay safe, Hood, will you?” she turned around and started walking away, but he called after her, making her stop.

“Can I get your name?!”

“Wonder why that matters to you.” she laughed, but decided in favor of answering “It’s Y/N. My name’s Y/N.”  with a single wave of the hand she was gone, leaving Jason wondering and muttering that single word over and over again.

***

“Hey, Drake. I got a favor to ask.”

“And out of all the people in the world you came to me?” Tim raised an eyebrow “You must be truly desperate, Todd.”

“I can always go and ask Barbara. Bet she’ll deal with the search I need much faster than you. She’s an expert after all.” Jason smirked knowing well enough how the reverse psychology affected Tim.

“Better!? No way!! What do you need?” the younger boy spun around on the chair, now facing the bat computer, fingers hanging over the keyboard, twitching in anticipation.

“I want to find a person. I only got a name, Y/N, possible living location and I know she works at the homeless shelter and kid center. Can you target her?”

“don’t know.” Tim tapped his chin, wondering “Is he a Red Hood’s object of interest or Jason Todd’s one?”

Fuck. There was no good answer to that question and Jason found himself falling right into Tim’s trap. 

“Let’s say a little bit of both.”

“Whatever you say……”

***

Tim was faster than Jason anticipated and with just a few clicks and searches he managed to locate the girl. And just a few minutes later, after breaking some speed limits (Bruce would pay for the tickets obviously) Todd was in front of the building she was spending her evening at.

It’s been a while since Jason seen so many hurt and scared people in one place and that reminded him how much crime actually was in Gotham. He was fighting some part of it, but the rest…. Damn it. The view was just painful. Starting from a few-years old, ending up on the elders, every age group has a representation in this place. And amongst all those citizens he saw Y/N. With messy hair and a smudge of something that seemed like a paint, but was awfully similar to blood she was telling a story to a bunch of kids, one of them placed on her knees. That little dirt on her cheek made Jason shudder. In the depths of his mind he already saw her injured, bleeding in some alley, after being attacked or raped, her optimistic attitude not serving as a shield.  But apparently her positive attitude was not a result of obliviousness and being raised in separation from the bad aspects of life, but rather the opposite. She experienced the sadness and pain everyday while working with those people and yet, remained cheerful. That was….. strangely alluring.

“Hey there.” She put the kid down, noticing him standing in the aisle, looking confused “Are you lost? Are you hurt? Do you need help?” she was so tiny in comparison with a tank Jason was and she wanted to help him. Not even expecting anything in return.  

“No…. I ……”

“Hey, it’s ok.” she reassured, putting a hand on his shoulder and he immediately felt the warmth coming all over his body. “You’re safe here. We can give you any aid you need.”

“I don’t need help. “ Jason shook his head.

“You sure?” she tilted her head “Cause it seems to me like you got a strained muscles, a bruise on the jaw and some cuts on the forearms.”

“You are quite observant, aren’t you?”

“Did my time as a doctor assistant.” She shrugged “never get to finish though”

“Why?”

“Um… you know, typical Gotham stuff. Parents getting shot. No one to help me pay for college…. I had to tend for myself and that required a full time job, not just studying. So I dropped. Became an assistant nurse instead. Shitty job, shitty pay, shitty work hours, but  get to make ends meet.”

“And you still find time to volunteer?”

“Like I said to someone before, I’d rather help people by spreading good. Seriously, can I help you with anything…..?”her voice hanged a bit and it took him a while before realizing she was waiting for hi name.

“I’m Jason. And I …. I think I want to be a volunteer as well.”

***

It’s been three years since then.

Three years in which she was constantly surprising him with her attitude, her smile, her uptake on things.

Three years of her being his rock, getting him through the shittiest, lowest day, never letting him give up or his darkness and shadow consume him. She was his ray of sun on those days when he had no power to push through.

Jason was not the first person to trust people, but somehow she managed to gain it quite quickly. After a few months of acquaintance, shaking because of the emotions (mostly fear) he told her about his alter ego, awaiting abandonment, terrified, judgmental gaze and her leaving him for good.

There was a moment of silence after his confession, two young adults just sitting on the couch opposite of each other. Jason looking down, silent begging for her to not leave him, missing the fact that Y/N’s signature honest gaze were focused on him.

“Jason….” she said quietly, careful not to startle him “Jace, please look at me.” The boy hesitantly raised his head, scared what he might see on the girl’s face “did you think I would leave you?”

“Yes.” He blurted not able to control himself anymore.

“You silly boy.” She leaned forward slightly, reaching for his cheek, not touching yet, since she learned how hard physical contact was for him “Can I?”

“Please….” He mumbled, and once she cupped his face, immediately leaned into the touch. So touch starved, so desperate for her, without even realizing this.

“Listen to me, Jason Todd. I am not going anywhere.”

“You’re not?”

“Of course not.” she whispered “I’m honestly a bit offended you could even think something like that. Do you even know me?”

“I know you see good in place where there is none. And I’m no good. I’m bad news, always have been and….”

“Oh, for crying out loud.” She hissed and not giving a shit about being gentle put her lips on his, the urge being just too strong to hold it anymore. “Sorry….” Just a few seconds later she realized what she did and pulled back, her face turning apologetic. “I didn’t mean to push….”

“Come back here” Jason breathed out, wrapping an arm around her waist and claiming her lips again, this time fully. God, he never knew how much he craved her and how much fear of rejection on her part he had.  “I need you.” he whispered pulling her flush to him “God, I shouldn’t  but I need you so bad.”

“Good thing it’s mutual.” She smiled, brushing a curl from his face and connecting their foreheads

“But….” He tried to say.

“if you start talking about that shit about darkness and everything else I won’t kiss you for a week.”

“Are you threatening the Red Hood, princess?”

“Guess, I am” she laughed, realizing that little fact “is it working?”

“Sure as hell it is.” Jason gasped before closing the gap between them.

***

Y/N was quickly accepted into the Wayne family, turning into a valuable member of the team. And damn, she was good at working with Oracle from the cave. But the most important part of her job (in her own words) was still giving the good vibes. Keeping the batboys (and batgirls) up and running, showing them how much good they were doing and how grateful people were for that.

Jason needed it more than anyone else, still doubting himself and dealing with past trauma, not that anyone blamed him for that. If nothing else, dying and resurrecting definitely have an effect on one’s mentality. And that was precisely why, Y/N would always stay up in the night, waiting for Jay to come back from the patrol to welcome him in the most caring and loving way she could.

“Jace!” she jumped off the couch as soon as she heard him walk thought the door, his helmet and jacket already discarded on the floor. She practically jumped into his arms, wrapping legs and arms around him, tugging her boyfriend tightly, feeling his muscles relax under her touches and caresses.

“Hi, baby….” He sighed deeply feeling her in his arms. The only person that made everything he did worth the effort.

“My hero.” She tugged him even tighter, hands tangling in his hair massaging gently.

“Hero? That’s funny princess. Are you sure you’re not mistaking me for Grayson? Do you wish that it was someone else in your arms?”

“What are you…..?” she pulled back from him slightly, but his arms kept her in place, familiar smirk forming on his face. “You are incorrigible Todd! Why are you constantly playing with me?”

“Cause you look cute with that surprised Pikachu face” he kissed the top of her nose and she pouted.

“Stop it! It’s my job to kiss you and hug you. You’re tired and hurt. Let me take care of you.” her hand travelled down from his neck and rested on his heart “Please, love. I just want to take all the pain from you. Let me, Jason.” she was practically begging him now, and the fact that he truly had someone who was willing to do that for him was making him melt. Since the words failed him, he just nodded, closing his eyes not to show any vulnerability. Almost three years of being together and it was still hard for him to show her his emotional side. “Open those eyes” she commanded, once he put her back on the floor and they just stood in place. “I love you, Jason.” Y/N said with fully convinced voice “whatever you think about yourself, you are a hero to me.” a little kiss on his forehead “A protector.” Kiss on his nose “a fighter” one on each of his cheeks “I can never see you differently” a peck on his lips, too short, leaving him wanting more and chasing her lips “but it’s me. You don’t need to act strong with me when you are tired. You don’t need to hide your emotions. You could never be too vulnerable for me. I accept and somewhat understand Red hood, but it’s Jason Todd I fell in love with. My Jason. The emotional one. All right, baby?’ she caressed his cheek, grabbing his hand and leading him backwards towards the bed “will you rest with me?”

“Yes.” He whispered “Please……”

“All right.” She helped him lay down and once he rested head on her chest, feeling her fingers play with his hair, the other hand caressing her back, Jason slowly let the tension and the burden of opinion, judgments and expectations go.

She was making him feel better about himself.

She was making him feel better about world.

And maybe it was wrong and selfish and careless, but he loved her.

And he was going to tell her that.

Soon.  

[detectivemarvelingcomics]

Not Your Classic Vigilante [Ch. 13]

Alternate Dimension AU TW: Language, Light Alcohol, Attempted Kidnapping, CW: OC Use, See the OC Guide [Here] Genre: Drama, Action, Angst, Light Comedy Pairing: Batfamily & Batsis!Reader, OC x Reader YN Pronouns: Female (She/Her) Word Count: 8.8K

(13/?) [First] | [Previous] | [Next] [DC Masterlist] | [Not Your Classic Vigilante Masterlist]

Notes: IT'S FINALLY DONEEEE this is crazy how many chapters have I updated this year? LMFAO Not fully proofread by my awakened mind yet but I did run it through grammarly lol I'll give it a proper look later

Disclaimer: This series is originally by @fandom-meanderer who is a close friend of mine, but she has since fallen out of her Tumblr days and asked me to finish a few series for her, hence why I am now in ownership of the Not Your Classic Vigilante series, I hope I can still live up to her writing as I rewrite this series! (I promise not to change too much, hehe)

2012

Things were different. Lonelier. And maybe a bit sadder. You stood in front of the room that now loomed over you, and you took a deep breath to steady your nerves. You opened it, the door slamming against the wall with a loud bang, and you waited, you waited for the usual ‘Get out of my room!’ But none came. And there hasn’t been one for months now. You walked inside, still a mess and untouched as it was the night before he left, and you sat in the middle of it, hugging your legs close to your chest.

“There’s another party downstairs,” you said out loud. “I was thinking I should go for a walk, should I?” You wondered aloud. No answer. No 'Wait for me,' no 'ask Dick to go with you.' Just silence. You just wanted a quiet place to escape the noise, what with the gala going on downstairs and your father acting in front of the masses, you just didn’t feel up to it. Besides, Dick wasn’t even there to keep you company this time. You sat in the silence for a while, looking around the room as if he was hiding somewhere and was about to jump out to scare you. But no surprises came. Instead, you got up, took one of the dusty books from the shelf, and left the room.

“Oh, hey!” A younger boy stood in front of you, he looked vaguely familiar. “Could I ask you a quick question?” 

“Yeah, the party’s just downstairs, walk down the corridor and you’ll hit the ballroom eventually,” you answered.

“No, it’s something else,” he shakes his head.

“Ah, the bathroom is also downstairs right next to the ballroom,” you cut him off and turned to walk into your room.

“(Y/N) Wayne. I know who your father is, we need to talk.” That got your attention. You stopped with your hand on the doorknob and sighed.

“Right, he’s a businessman, nothing else,” you nodded. But the boy’s face remained grim. “Let’s go somewhere private,” you nudged your head further down the hall and he followed. Once you were both situated in a secluded part of the mansion, he spoke up.

“I’m Tim Drake,” he introduces himself. You shook his hand. Tim Drake, a couple years your junior, you've seen him around in your family's galas before but you've never really talked to him, you were always more preoccupied with your brothers or too busy taking pictures to go up to the boy who tended to stay on the sidelines more.

“I know.” Now you remembered him, he’d gone to a few of your father’s galas before.

“Oh, cool, I was worried for a second, we didn’t usually talk much,” he says, “you were always with two older guys.”

“My brothers.”

“I know that,” Tim shrugs. “I tracked you down because I had a favor to ask you,” he says.

“Sure,” you agreed only as a formality. The Waynes and the Drakes were somewhat of friends. Tim glanced around.

“Batman needs a Robin,” he says quietly. You wondered how he figured it out. There was no point in hiding anything either, he must have been really smart to have figured out your identities, even people who worked right next to your dad couldn’t have deduced it. “Don’t try to deny it, I have pictures,” he says. You shook your head.

“If you’re asking me then that means that Dick said no, huh?”

“Right away,” Tim mutters.

“I can’t give you an answer,” you told him. But Tim’s eyes seemed to shine, as if he’d found a treasure he’d been looking for. Why he was so desperate, you didn’t know. “Well, either way, you figured them out, I’m sure you can think of something too just in case,” you replied bluntly. 

“Thank you, (Y/N),” he says. “Even just thinking about it is enough.”

“Why do you feel like you should do this, though?” You asked him.

“I…” Tim hesitated. “I’m sure you know as well as I do the kind of rampage Batman has been on in the city.” You were. Recently, you were certain, that your father and the one behind the mask are two different people now.

“And you think having a Robin would help him?” You muttered. 

“Yes, I do, and who better than his own daughter?” He asks. You looked away and toward your clasped hands.

“You may be asking the wrong person, Tim, I have no qualifications to be a Robin,” you say.

“Better you than none,” Tim insists.

“I could never do what they did,” you shut your eyes. “The Batman... he scares me,” you mumbled, clutching onto the book in your arms a little tighter now.

“I’m sorry,” Tim says. You held your hand up to stop him. 

“I’m sorry too, Tim, this isn’t a good time,” you shook your head, stood up, and you left. You admired Tim’s good intentions, truly, but they paled in comparison to the thoughts that ran rampant in your mind right now. You just lost a brother. Your father didn’t want to listen to you. Your other brother was nowhere to be found, and that left you to mull all this over. 

You felt lost.

Lost in your thoughts, and all alone. This was the first time, the first in a long time, where you once again felt alienated in this manor. Not a vigilante and barely a Wayne, was donning the Robin mantle what you needed to do to be seen again?

You didn’t know.

~

2022

The three brothers climbed onto the train after Damian pulled an insignia out of his pocket. 

“The Captain sends her regards,” Damian says to the guards. They salute and march away after leading them to a private cabin, one that Damian shut and locked as soon as the other two were situated.

“Alright, Damian, you first,” Tim invites him. Damian nods.

“After that man teleported me here, I woke up on a battlefield, it was… very different than the ones we’ve seen before,” he says. “Everything in this world is different from ours, laws, people, everything,” he says. “I don’t even know where to start for you two. I’ve been here for almost two months now and I’m still learning things.”

“Two months?!” Tim shouts. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah?”

“Damian, you went missing two weeks ago,” Jason corrects.

“Weeks? No, no, I’ve been here for a while now,” Damian shakes his head. Tim pulls out the remains of the watch. “Where did you get that?”

“(Y/N) left it behind before she left,” Tim mumbles.

“This is it. This is the watch that the stranger had too,” Damian takes the watch and opens it.

“So this is the culprit then,” Tim looks down at it. “Maybe we could reverse it somehow to get home.”

“Not in this state, it won’t,” Damian shuts the watch in his hands and places it in his pocket. “I’ve been trying to do my own investigation, but without the watch and with the constant surveillance I’ve been drawing blanks.” 

“Superveillance?” Tim, always the skeptic.

“To avoid any unnecessary complications, I had to hide in plain sight, but that greatly restricted my movements,” Damian grumbles. “Now you two, how did you figure it out?”

“We were tugging it around, and somehow it activated the mechanism inside of it,” Tim explains.

“Before I was transported, the man swang it back and forth, maybe moving the watch is key to activating it,” Damian hypothesizes.

“Movement of some kind, but it has to be precise, otherwise you’d be teleporting everywhere with every step,” Tim swings the pendulum of a clock, but in its sorry state nothing happens.

“Well, either way, we’re not going to figure out shit with it like this,” Jason shakes his head. “I say we find (Y/N) then we figure out how to fix the thing.”

“That’s a good start,” Tim agrees.

“Luckily, I know where she is,” Damian cuts in, “we’ve been sticking close to each other since I landed here.”

“That’s good! She’s alright, then? Safe?” Tim worries. Damian hid the smile behind his hand.

“Good, great even, and most of all safe,” he answers. The train halts and Damian stands up first. “But, since I have you both here, we’re going to have to figure out a way to have both of you go under the radar too. So I’ll share the story we've been using.” Tim and Jason shared wary glances.

“Okay.”

“Sure.”

“We’re from the mountains—”

“Fuck, couldn’t you have come up with something more believable?” Jason groans.

“Trust me, it’s worked so far, it explains our general lack of knowledge on how everything in this universe works as for the lack of ID,” he starts, “so, we’re from a mountain village. Recently, due to impoverished conditions, our parents sent all of us down to start working and to send money home. It works with (Y/N) in her position, it works with me being inducted late, and we’ll find a way to make it work with you two.”

“Sure, alright, I’ll play along if it means we can get home easier,” Tim says.

“Home… yeah,” Damian nods, but Jason is quick to catch his unease. He chose not to bring it up, though.

“Fine, yeah, I’ll be a farmer, or whatever,” Jason leans back against the seat.

“This world, though, you mentioned different laws. Hell, Jason and I got arrested for taking care of things the way we usually do, how can you explain that?”

“The law enforcement in this world is basically airtight, and it’s based on an honor system,” Damian explains, “At any moment, someone can be removed and replaced in the Knighthood under two circumstances: reasonable petition or honorable combat. Reasonable petition is when enough people with viable grievances petition for a member to be removed. Honorable combat is when someone challenges a Knight for their position. Because of this system, a natural respect is garnered by the people, and as a result of that there’s hardly any petty crime. As for the larger crimes, those are dealt with quickly, there’s far worse problems to deal with in this world than crime,” Damian says.

“And the law?” Jason probes.

“No unreasonable violence without just cause and material evidence,” Damian says. “That’s the best way to put why you two were arrested. The victim ran away so you didn’t have their testimony, the criminal was knocked out cold so he couldn’t say anything anyway, and two people without IDs were spotted at the scene. Not a good look, right?”

“Fair enough,” Tim brushes his shoulder.

“It’s a good thing you two are in civilian attire, makes it easier for you to blend in,” Damian says.

“Yeah… speaking of, where’s your uniform? What’s with the get up?” Jason asks.

“It’s at the apartment right now, we had to keep it hidden. To be able to integrate quickly I joined the Knighthood alongside a new regiment, I lucked out in the timing, but because of that I have a strict regimen to stick to, it’s been hard to investigate, but now that I have you both here we should be able to delegate.” The train slows to a stop and the cabin door opens automatically. Damian held a finger to his lips to signal that the conversation was over and the older two nodded. Damian leads them out of the train and the trio steps into a high-ceiling station. “We’re in the citadel now, the Knightsguard is the primary form of law enforcement here,” Damian says just loud enough for them to hear.

“This looks right out of a fantasy book,” Tim looks around.

“Uh… yeah,” Jason watches people interacting with holograms and other tech he couldn’t have even imagined. “So, where’s (Y/N)?” He asks.

“I’m taking you to her, obviously,” Damian grimaces. “But she’s busy right now, we’ll have to wait, but you’ll be able to see her,” Damian leads them down a series of corridors. “I need you both to remain calm while we’re here, though, remember we have to fly under the radar if we’re all going to go home, that means we have to play by their rules,” Damian says.

“Yeah, I can be calm,” Jason huffs. Tim and Damian deadpan toward him. “What? I can!”

“Says the man who decked someone first thing,” Damian chuckles.

“How’d you even know that was us anyway?!” Jason gasps.

“Two men in their twenties, one used excessive force on a civilian and the other screamed in frustration when it happened, then they argued with each other right after,” Damian recites. “I didn’t even have to listen to your names to know it was you two,” his mouth falls into a flat line.

“That could’ve been anyone, though,” Tim says.

“Sure, in any other earth where law-breaking was common, like ours. I already explained to you that things are different here. Not to mention, those other worse things to worry about,” Damian led the two into an arena-like room.

“Dami! Over here!” A voice yells out.

“Ooh, Dami, huh?” Jason nudges him and Damian rolls his eyes.

“Don’t embarrass me,” he glowers.

“It’s kinda in the job description,” Jason snarks and Damian frowns.

“You two are so similar,” he mumbles under his breath. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” he responds to Retta regardless and the three approach them.

“Whoa, who are these?” Lowen asks.

“These are my brothers, Tim and Jason,” Damian introduces them. “They are also from our backwater mountain village,” Damian glares at Hugo.

“Whoa…” Hugo was stuck in admiration, though.

“You two, the group here are my friends, don’t be weird. The one eating a sandwich is Niers, the one who called us over is Retta, the girl playing with those rocks is Luciana, the one reading over there is Lowen, and the one making googly eyes toward Jason is Hugo,” Damian runs through the list and the group exchanges awkward hellos.

“Well, you’re all just in time! The Brigade’s about to start their sparring matches,” Retta points toward the ring in the middle. “Every month the Brigade checks their individual progress through these matches, randomized opponents and randomized scenarios. Though we don’t have to be here, it’s always fascinating to see how quick-witted they are. Truly they are the best of the best for a reason,” she explains.

“Yeah? We’ll see about that,” Jason mutters.

“Jason’s somewhat of an expert,” Tim nudges him.

“What about you?” Lowen snarks.

“He’s smart,” Damian answers for him.

“That’s… that’s it?” Lowen hums.

“Trust us, he’s the most important one,” Jason sighs.

“Oh! It’s starting!” Niers leans forward, pulling out his phone to start recording. “Looks like Officer Jones and Lieutenant Wright are first,” he says.

“Jones is the one on the left, Wright, I’m sure, looks familiar,” Damian speaks so only the two could hear him.

“Holy shit… that’s Alex,” Jason squints his eyes. “What’s he doing here?”

“I’m still trying to figure that out myself,” Damian leans forward. “I don’t believe in coincidences.”

“In our line of work, those don’t exist,” Tim replies.

“What’s your first impression of them? Just a curious question,” Luciana butts into their conversation, she’s looking at Jason, the so-called expert.

“Well…” Jason leans forward. “Both of them are in the military, that’s clear from their builds. Jones has a broader build, though, his shoulders are heavier but his arms are just as built, he probably uses a heavy weapon, right?”

“Right, he uses battle axes,” Luciana leans back. “And the lieutenant?”

“Hm…” Jason thought back, he’d met Alex a couple of times, that nerd. He couldn’t imagine him wielding anything as heavy as an axe, and with that more balanced build it was clear that, if anything, he would only be able to use lightweight weapons. Then again, Alex is a nerd, and if this world is straight out of a story booy then one thing could be plausible. “Magic user.”

“He is an expert!” Niers gasps.

“Just lucky guesses,” Jason hums.

“Watch the screens there,” Retta points to the monitors. “Look, you can see who’s fighting on that first one and the second one shows the random scenario.”

“Swords, wow,” Lowen closed his book and watched with an intent gaze. “Just look at the way they even hold them,” he was amazed, and rightfully so.

“So, you both have talents in martial arts?” Retta asks.

“Yeah, but I’ve never used a sword before,” Jason shrugs.

“Observe carefully,” Damian mutters. Tim and Jason catch onto his words and they turn their focus to the fight ahead of them.

~

2013

You walked downstairs one night, the moon was high in the sky and the stars just barely peeking out of Gotham’s smog. You had another nightmare, the same one you’ve been having for a while now. Your fear of being left alone because of the looming threat of death was one that you didn’t think would be going away any time soon. You walked into the kitchen, ready to pour yourself a glass of water.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Tim says behind you. You gasped in surprise, nearly dropping the glass while turning around. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says. There’s a mug in front of him, freshly poured and still cooling down.

“Is everything okay?” You pulled up a chair in front of him and he hesitated before answering.

“… No,” he looks into the mug in front of him. “I know I volunteered to become the next Robin but… training’s been harder than I thought it would be,” he shakes his head.

“That bad?” You rest your head on your hand. “Is Dick being too hard on you?”

“No, it’s not that, if anything Dick is the only one I’m actually learning from,” Tim shakes his head. “It’s just… it’s a lot,” he admits. You leaned forward on the table now.

“Well, for what it counts, I know next to nothing about fighting crime, so if you ever want to take a break, why not spend the day with me? I’m just a boring old civilian, but it’ll be nice to get some fresh air once in a while,” you offered.

“You’re not just a boring old civilian,” he shakes his head. “But… if you’re not doing anything tomorrow, maybe we can do something then?”

“Tomorrow?” You hummed. “Sure, let’s go do something after school,” you nodded. “I’ll tell dad so don’t worry about it, if he gets upset he’d have to go through me first,” you joked.

“Yes! I can’t wait!”

The next day, you and Tim were practically bouncing in your shoes waiting for the day to be over. Tim wondering what you had planned and you wondering how the day will go. This is the first time you’d have something of a younger sibling and you were so excited about it. You were excited to spend time with Tim the same way your older siblings spent time with you. It was a miracle that your dad agreed to let you take Tim out for the day, granted Dick did most of the talking, but you were thankful nonetheless. And, once the bell rang, it was nearly in the blink of an eye that both of you were outside.

“So, what are we doing today?” Tim asks.

“Hmm…” you pulled out two slips of paper and showed them to Tim, blank side up. “Choose one.”

“Any of them?”

“Yup, the one you choose is the one we’ll do today,” you nodded.

“Okay, well…” he looks between them both and selects the left one, “ice cream?”

“Ice cream it is,” you showed him the other paper which simply read ‘Arcade’ and you saw the way his eyes lit up, “this one is for the next time we hang out.”

“Next time?”

“Sure, even heroes need breaks,” you nudged him. “Anyway, there’s this hole-in-the-wall place I used to go to all the time, you’ll love it there, they have this cookie-butter flavor that is just so good,” you hummed.

“Cookie butter sounds good right now,” Tim follows at your heels.

“Hey, catch up! Don’t walk behind me like that,” you waited for him to join you at your side before continuing onward. “Look at those, Timmy,” you pointed into the shop window at the shoes. “I’ve been wanting that pair since forever,” you pointed at the one in the middle.

“Why don’t you just buy them then?” He asks you.

“Where’s the fun in that? My mom taught me from the get-go to earn things before getting them. Sure, her way was a bit…”

“Illegal?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you tilted your head to the side and nodded, “so I decided to combine both her and dad’s philosophies.”

“Beating people up?”

“No, no,” you shook your head quickly. “Work hard to make the prizes more worthwhile. It’s good for goal setting, and motivation, and it feels nice to finally reach a goal,” you pointed at the shoes. “I’m not going to buy those shoes until I graduate high school. No ifs, ands, or buts,” you announced. You and Tim walked into the ice cream parlor next to it and Tim slid into a booth. “How about you, Timmy? What’s your motivation?” Tim hums for a second.

“I want to do what’s right,” he says.

“You sure about that?” You asked him. He looks confused. “Think about it, Tim. I’m gonna get our ice cream.”

“But, that is my motivation.”

“That’s like premeds saying they want to save lives when asked why they wanted to go into medicine,” you explained.

“Well, you want to be a premed, why do you want to go into medicine?”

“Surgery, I want to specialize in that specifically because I like cutting things open,” you laughed and Tim’s face grew grim.

“Are you serious?!”

“Yeah, I mean, cutting things open with consent, duh, but see it’s small reasons that will help you drive your bigger one,” you say. “Anyway, what flavor do you want?”

“Chocolate, please.”

“Sounds good, think about it, Timmy, I’ll be right back.”

~

2022

“Talk about crowd,” Carter looks out from his spot. “When did we become zoo animals?” He nudges you.

“Who knows? It started out with the twins observing us, and now we have half the knighthood here,” you shrugged. “Poor Nix, though, he got the short end of the stick with swords.”

“He was never good at that subject,” you and Carter watched the sword slip out of Nixon’s hand and land stuck to the ground beneath. Alex, meanwhile, stops the blade right as it would’ve hit Nixon’s neck.

“Yield! I yield,” Nixon rose his hands and Alex put the sword away, offering his hand instead, which Nixon took with pride. “Good one, Lex,” he pulls Alex in and the two bump shoulders before separating. “Hey, stage’s all yours!” Nixon flags you both down.

“Yeah, yeah, take your time to walk that one off,” you fired back. Nixon rolled his eyes and followed Alex.

“Nixon, you have to pay more attention to your footing, I didn’t even have to worry about striking you since you were too busy tripping over yourself,” Alex says, “it’s amazing that you can wield an axe a foot taller than you.”

“Hey, come on, an axe is weighed totally differently than a sword,” Nixon shrugs. “Who’s up next anyway?”

“That would be us,” you raised your hand alongside Carter’s.

“Oh, now this I gotta see, you two don’t get paired up often,” Nixon grins. “My money’s on the Captain, of course,” he whispers to Alex.

“That all depends on what the random scenario is,” you shrugged. “If it’s anything other than swordsmanship or rifling, I’m screwed,” you sighed and followed Carter out, keeping your eyes glued to the screen to see the scenario. The words moved through the screen quickly in a wheel-like fashion until they settled on one phrase.

‘Hand-to-hand combat’

“Damn it all,” you cursed. Carter, meanwhile, stretched his arms across his chest. “You’re an expert at this one, Adara.”

“You would know,” he answers with a grin.

“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. You grabbed the wraps from the table and secured them around your hands. “Go easy, maybe?”

“You’d hate me if I did,” Carter held his hand out and you shook it with a firm grasp.

“Good answer,” you separated and took a deep breath and, once the buzzer sounded, your first move was to block, of all things. Too preoccupied with what was going on in the stands, you were more focused on not getting knocked down.

“Hey, she kinda looks like (Y/N),” Jason whistles. Damian and Tim turn back to look at him, the latter’s jaw on the floor.

“You really are stupid, aren’t you?” Damian clicks his tongue.

“That is (Y/N)!” Tim gestures toward you with open hands and Jason whistles louder.

“Oh!” He leans back to get a wider view. “Oh,” his voice drops alongside his jaw. He shoots up and runs down the bleachers.

“Jason! Don’t do anything dumb!” Tim makes a move to follow, but Damian pulls him down.

“Shh!”

“He’s gonna blow our cover!”

“You’re both going to blow our cover if you make a scene,” Damian hisses. 

“(Y/N)!” Jason cupped his hands around his mouth and your head whipped to the side.

“Jason?!” Now it was your turn to be shocked.

“Twelve o’clock!” He shouts. You duck your head in time to dodge the jab.

“Distracted, cap?” Carter pulls his fists back and you hold your arms in a defensive stance while shaking the shock from your thoughts. You knew Carter well enough to know that he wasn’t going to let you off easy, and such was true when he landed a hit clean on your jaw. You stumbled back on slightly, pushing your mandible back in place.

“Good hit.”

“Not good enough apparently.” Carter was relentless, you knew he had a natural talent at this but goddammit you were about to get schooled in front of the newbies. You blocked another hit from him and ducked under his swing. You could only dodge him for so long, you’d have to fight back eventually, but he kept all of his weak points well-guarded, moving just enough every time to block you off. It was when he knocked the wind out of you, causing you to stumble back and land against the railing, then a small ray of hope appeared.

“Hey, kid,” Jason takes your shoulders and holds you steady, “come on, shake it off. When dealing with opponents twice your size, you gotta go for the spots they won’t think twice of. Looks like this guy doesn’t skip chest day, but if you look at his proportions, your best bet is to go for the legs and then you throw punches,” he instructs. You nodded your head shakily, your pride was getting in the way of your logic right now.

“Yeah, okay, why?” Was all you were able to get out.

“I’ll be damned if my little sister loses in a hand-to-hand fight, this is my bread and butter,” he hits his chest with his fist. “Now go fuck him up!” He pushes you forward and you roll your neck, the world stabilizing around you and your breathing steadying again.

“Okay, I’m back,” you hold your hands in front of you.

“Isn’t that cheating?” He nudges his head toward Jason.

“Please, he just wanted to say ‘hello,’” you shrugged and charged again. Go for the legs, that’s right, that was always Carter’s weak point, why didn’t you think of that before? Good on Jason for noticing it as soon as he looked at him too, just goes to show you still have a lot to learn. Color Carter surprised when you roundhoused him first, knocking him onto his back and grabbing him by the collar. “Yield.”

“Nah,” he grabs your arm and sweeps you off of your feet, you were airborne for a while before you felt yourself pinned to the ground. You broke free from his grasp and rolled to the side, regaining your footing quickly to move out of the way of another swing.

“Come on, (Y/N)!” Of course, Jason was always the loudest in the room. You adjusted steadied your stance and threw a jab just as you moved out of the way of Carter’s right hook.

“Who’s he, anyway?” Carter asks.

“Focus,” you duck behind him and sweep his legs again, this time Carter falls forward, but you grab the back of his shirt on time. “You always keep your back open,” you shook your head.

“Well, I usually have you to watch it,” he pushes up and pivots on his heel, once again grabbing your arm, but you took this as a chance to slam your knee into his abdomen, effectively knocking the wind out of him and pushing him to the side. You stretched your arms out again and, right as he recovered, you landed a hit clean against his jaw, knocking him onto the floor. You shook the stinging pain out of your hands while he raised his right one. “Yield,” he adjusts his jaw and you help him up.

“Goes to show I’m captain for a reason, right?” You pulled him close so you could whisper in his ear. “Why’d you let me win? I know you can pack a harder punch.”

“Half the knighthood’s watching, and that guy who said ‘hello’ is glaring daggers at me,” he nudges his head toward Jason. Jason. You let go of him and turn to your brother, nodding toward the side of the stage, and he catches your signal, going in that direction while you drop the wraps back in their place. “Where are you off to?”

“Investigation, watch over Eve’s and Alex’s spar for me,” you walked under the entrance and spotted Jason at the end. “Don’t get excited, he let me win,” you jutted your thumb behind you, but Jason still had a proud grin on his face.

“Does it matter? Look at you go, kiddo!” He clapped a hand against your back and you groaned. “Now… what the fuck was that?!” His shout was obvious and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“Look, Jay, a lot has changed since we last spoke, but more importantly, what the hell are you doing here? How? Are the others about to come pouring in?” You asked.

“Oh, actually, Tim’s here too.”

“Tim’s here too?!”

“Yeah, wanna say hi?”

“Jason, be serious, you shouldn’t be here, the three of you!”

“Well, duh, Tim and I came here to nab you and Damian and head back.”

“Head back? Do you even know how to head back?!”

“Sure,” Jason pulls out the wristwatch and you grab it, looking at the damaged insignia on the front. It was almost too scraped and worn through to be able to get a clear image, but the shape was a dead giveaway.

“How did you get this?”

“You left it behind?”

“Me? No, no, that’s impossible, I don’t use this model,” you said.

“Model? Wait, you have one of these?” Jason points at it in your hands.

“Yes, kind of, it’s complicated, Jay.”

“And you never came home?!” You stopped. You took a deep breath.

“… No,” you shook your head. You opened the watch. “Whatever you two did to this, it’s busted beyond repair. It can’t get you back now, and the models I use are under lock and key by the Crown,” you shut the watch with one hand and handed it back to Jason.

“And since Damian’s still here then you haven’t been able to get it, huh?”

“Without putting him at risk, no,” you crossed your arms and Jason mirrored your stance. “I’m not going back, Jay.”

“I’m not going to try to convince you,” he says while rubbing the back of his neck harshly. “Look, I know you have your reasons, and I’m not going to bang my head against a wall to understand them—”

“I thought you of all people would understand,” you interjected.

“What?”

“You didn’t come home either, did you?” You asked.

“That was different.”

“How so?” You stepped up. “We both died because of a mistake that father made and we both came back fundamentally changed from who we were before, how are we different?”

“Because you are you and I am me,” Jason points to you then to himself. “I… I can’t explain it other than that,” he shakes his head.

“Sister,” Damian approaches with Tim in tow.

“We’ll finish this conversation later,” you took the watch from Jason’s hand and held it up. “Look familiar, Damian?” You held it by the chain and the younger nodded. “Shit, this just got more complicated,” you muttered. You shoved it into your pocket as soon as you heard footsteps.

“Ayo, Cap!” Nixon waves his hand. “Ayo… everyone else,” he observes the group while the rest of the Brigade follow behind him. 

“Whoa, long time no see, Alex,” Jason waves.

“Hello, Jason,” Alex nods his head. “I don’t suppose daddy dearest will be next, will he?” Alex whispers toward you.

“Interesting to see a familiar face,” Tim was already making connections, you could see it in his expression.

“Shit… the Queen’s gonna kill me,” you slumped your shoulders and your eyes rolled toward the ceiling. “Would it be nepotism if I just tossed them in some honorary role?” You looked at Alex.

“Yes, very, but they’re too old to take the recruits’ test too,��� Alex hums.

“It’s fine, there’s no need,” Tim cuts in. “We’ll be in and out, we’re just here to get Damian and (Y/N) and we’ll be on our way—”

“Whoa, whoa, what do you mean you’re here for the captain?” Carter subtly steps next to you now. “Sure, take the kid, we were looking for ways to send him back anyway, but you can’t take her.” He looks toward you and you sigh.

“What do you mean we can’t take her?” Tim frowns.

“Stop,” you held your hand out and the group fell into a tangible silence. “Look, we can’t have this conversation until we even find a way to send them back. We haven’t had access to our watches since we came back, and we can only use those with a direct Royal order, so until then, we’re going to have to find a way for you both to lie low, that’s why I inducted Damian into the Knighthood, it gave me a way to keep an eye on him while I researched the monster outbreaks,” you explain.

“There’s monsters here too?” Tim asks.

“Naturally,” you nodded. “Any of you have any ideas on how I handle my brothers?” You looked at your team.

“You are taking this surprisingly well,” Alex comments. You look at your watch.

“No time to freak out, I have to head down to the lab soon, there are developments with the daemon I need to check out,” you silenced your phone, “well? Anyone?”

“It’s a long shot, but…” Eve hums. “I know we have openings on our research team, we could probably fit them in there,” she says.

“I could do that,” Tim says. “Jason, though, I’m not too sure,” he looks at his brother, who crossed his arms.

“There is that way,” Alex speaks up but you shook your head.

“No way.”

“Well, it’s your best bet if you don’t want Jason around vials ten times older than he is,” Alex insists.

“What is it? I can handle it,” Jason nods.

“Mm… who would he fight though? He has to take someone’s place,” you mumbled.

“Or, if he fought someone with high authority and they were impressed with him that could work too,” Alex insists.

“Who has that authority?” You asked him.

“…” Alex didn’t answer.

“Oh,” your eyes widened slightly with the realization. “Okay, yeah,” you nodded. “Jason, repeat after me,” you looked at him and he nodded. “I, Jason Todd.”

“I, Jason Todd.”

“Challenge.”

“Challenge?”

“The Captain of the Brigade.”

“The Captain of the Brigade.”

“For a position on their team.”

“For a position on their… team?” Jason’s head tilts slightly.

“Sure, challenge accepted,” you took his hand and shook it.

“Wait… What?!” You pushed him toward the arena. “Hold on!”

“See you guys in a bit, I’ll explain everything after this, promise, meanwhile someone makes up an ID for him and Timmy,” you looked at your team and they nodded, heading toward the stands. “Jason, make it look realistic, yeah? Eyes everywhere.” You pushed him out of the entryway and Jason looked around the arena. He’d seen it from above, but to be in the center of it all was a whole new experience.

“Get a load of this! Someone challenged the Captain!” A voice shouted.

“Captain Wayne?! He doesn’t stand a chance!”

“Who is he anyway? Someone pull up his ID.”

“Not every day we see someone not in the Knighthood challenge, should be interesting.”

“What did you get me into?” Jason asks, looking around the now looming arena.

“Shh,” you pointed toward the screens. The phrases rolled in roulette until it settled: No scenario. “Well, that’s just luck.” Two tables rose on either side of you. “Take your pick, Jay. Whichever you choose I’ll go with too. If I’m impressed, I’ll induct you in, if not… well, we’ll deal with that after,” you shrugged and stood at the table, waiting for your opponent to make his choice. Jason, as predicted, picked up the pistols. “Don’t worry, there’s an enchantment on them, nothing here is deadly,” you told him, picking up your own pair of guns. “We’re sparring, not killing.”

“Sure, yeah,” he gives them a spin to test their weight, and, strangely enough, they felt perfect. “So what exactly are we doing?”

“Only way I can keep you two close by. Tim goes with research, you stick by me. I can’t have you running off punching people, Jay.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Not here you can’t, god, you’re worse than Damian,” you readjusted your grip around the handles. “Think of it as a spar, you’ve done plenty of those.”

“This isn’t fair, though,” Jason stood at one end of the arena. “You’ve watched me since I started, you know all my moves.”

“Not true, there was a three-year gap, right? I would hope you learned something new.”

“Oho, you really are my sister if you’re making jokes about your death,” Jason held the pistol up. “I saw that fight too, let’s get caught up,” Jason takes the first shot and you move out of the way just in time, taking your own shot in response.

~

2015

“So, anyway,” Tim takes a bite of his cheeseburger while you drank your soda, “Conner did some crazy shit where he ripped the robot in two, it was insane!” Tim continued to tell his story but soon he caught himself.

“It’s okay, he’s still your best friend,” you urged him to continue.

“Still, though, I mean…” Tim crosses his arms.

“At least he did it the right way, he broke up with me first,” you shrugged. “And it’s good for you too! You don’t have to hear me talking about him anymore,” you nudged him playfully and continued eating. “Anyway, you were saying?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, sis,” he shakes his head. “Plus, I’m out here with you, why would I want to talk about work?” Tim groans. “How are you?”

“Oh, you know, the usual,” you hummed. “I’ve just sent out my applications. I’m looking into some different universities,” you pulled up the list on your phone. “I’m really looking at Metropolis or Central City, they have strong STEM programs that I’m interested in,” you said.

“Oh… what about Gotham U?” Tim asks. You look up from your phone and you don’t quite think you’ve seen that expression on him before.

“Of course, that’s my safe university, I’m pretty much guaranteed acceptance with my namesake alone,” you cleared your throat. “Is… is everything okay, Timmy?” You asked him. You couldn’t beat around the bush anymore. You’d noticed Tim being a bit more… resistant to certain things going on in the house. You leaving for college being one of them, you never noticed just how close you two were until now.

“Bruce… he doesn’t need me anymore, huh?” He says quietly.

“Oh, Tim, don’t say that,” you straightened your posture and you took a deep breath.

“And you… you have an actual younger brother now,” Tim says quietly.

“Hey, come on, blood doesn’t make the bond,” you say. “Plus, no one could ever replace you,” you continued. “I mean, not just anyone memorizes 200 digits of pi for fun.”

“Come on, that’s nothing!” Tim grumbles.

“Definitely something, Tim I cry tears of joy when problems tell me to just use pi instead of 3.14,” you laughed. “But, I’m serious, Tim, if anything you’re going to get promoted,” you grinned. Tim shoots you an uneasy smile.

“Yeah, I guess, I don’t know what exactly I’m so worried about,” he says. “I mean… well, I don’t know,” he stops and decides not to pursue it any further. “But, uh, Metropolis, huh? That’s a good school!”

“I know, just a little far now that I think about it,” you muttered. “Gotham’s program isn’t so bad either, I guess,” you hummed and took a quick glance at Tim, who already seemed a little happier.

“But, (Y/N), you don’t have to go there, you looked excited talking about those other two,” Tim catches your glance. “It’s just… they’re far,” he leans back against the booth. “We can’t be with you there, you know? You’d be on your own and you’re a Wayne and…”

“Hey, I can handle myself pretty well, I think,” you insisted. “I mean, I made it this far, right?”

“Because you had us!”

“Tim,” your voice dropped and you looked both ways, ensuring that no one was listening. “I get that I’m not as… extraordinary as you all, but I’m not helpless, I can take care of myself, I’ve been taking care of myself, and I know you mean well, but Tim you’ve gotta trust me a little,” you folded your hands in front of you. “I’m not as fragile as Dick likes to make me out to be.”

“That’s… that’s not what I meant,” Tim looked away and you sighed.

“I know, I know you just want me to be safe, all of us,” you crossed your arms. “But I can’t just live in fear. One thing being in this family teaches you is how to be careful,” you looked to the side. “And another thing it teaches you is that family is what you make it,” Tim looked at you now. “Dick and I aren’t blood-related, neither was Jason, and neither are you, but still I have never looked at any of you as anything other than my brothers. The same goes for Babs, Steph, and Cass, you’re all my family regardless of anything, and I will always put you all first. But, with that said, the same goes for Damian. He’s young, alone, and probably confused, we can’t alienate him just because of his background, if anything, that’s why we should accept him more. And you, Tim, I get it, you’re different from the first two, but that doesn’t make you any less than them, hell, I bet if Jason were here right now he’d say the same.”

“But…”

“No ‘buts, Tim, I mean it, you’re amazing!”

“Maybe… maybe I’ll take a page out of your book then, (Y/N), retire early,” he says. Your shoulders slumped.

“Whatever you want, little bro. And if you do, I’ll be here to help you out. And if not, I’ll still be here.”

“Even if you’re miles away?”

“You know, there’s this wonderful invention called cell phones.”

“Stop it! You know what I mean!”

“Yes! Yeah, of course, even if I’m partying it up in Central City, if you call me I’ll come running, I know you’d do the same.”

“Well, that goes without saying,” Tim crosses his arms now.

“So… the new team, huh? I’d love to meet them.”

“Oh, you are going to love them, (Y/N)!” Tim beams.

~

2022

You just narrowly dodged the bullet this time, had Jason already gotten a reading on you? Impossible. You had to switch up your tactics quickly or else you’d actually lose. Think, (Y/N), what was he going to do next? Jason, as much as a wildcard he is, you could read him easily. He had these kinds of wind-ups to certain moves, you noticed. Like now, that roll of his shoulder, he’s going in for a hook so now you had to think about where he’s aiming. If he ducks low enough it’s your abdomen, if he keeps his level then it’s your shoulder. Leave it to Jason to play dirty, he picked up the pistols only for them to be a red herring, but, then again, you should’ve expected this from him as soon as he holstered the damn things.

But you knew him as well as he knew you. You play by the rules, maybe a little too much, out of the box operations were more of Carter’s forte while you and Alex tried to stick to orders more. But, come to think of it, you’d always been this way. Always doing what you’re told and never standing up until you have to. Then here’s Jason, an absolute force of nature when he’s pissed and an unstoppable machine when he’s focused.

You dodged his punch and bounced back, creating some distance before aiming the pistol and taking three shots. One on his arm, the other on his leg, and the third missed its mark when it grazed his shoulder. On each impact the bullet dissipated, hitting him with enough force to push him back but hardly enough to leave more than a bruise. You switched hands and fired another round, this time the bullet grazed his cheek and Jason couldn’t stop the proud smirk that rose on his face.

You never really got why your siblings were so crazy about sparring. Sure, you got it from a training standpoint, but their obsession with it was on a new level. It was just a pass time for them and you’d just sip on a juicebox and wait for them to finish.

But you get it now.

It’s a whole different language, one that was perfected by the Waynes. Each attack was like a part of a conversation, let’s get caught up, you get what he meant now. Even your spars with the other members of the Brigade weren’t this entertaining, and everyone in the stands agreed. Usually, you’d hear roars of shouts but this time it was silent. Everyone was watching in tense observation, trying to see if Jason had what it takes to join the Brigade and, hell, he actually might.

“Come on, Jay, you picked up those pistols, use them,” you taunted. Jason shook his head and charged again, you barely moved out of the way this time. “You’re faster.”

“I do cardio with Steph.” You ducked under his swing.

“Wider shoulders too.” He grabbed your fist before you could hit him and you shook him off before he could toss you.

“Dick would kill me if I skipped chest day.” You held the pistol up but misfired.

“Thought he was more of a glutes guy.” Jason evades your attacks easily.

“You know that’s all genetics.” He shrugs and you take this chance to shoot at his foot, causing him to lose his balance temporarily.

“True.” It didn’t last long, Jason was up on his feet in seconds and you were planning your next attack.

“I’m starting to think you just use those things as a safety blanket,” you looked at either pistol and Jason rolled his eyes.

“You know one thing about you that hasn’t changed, kiddo?”

“What?”

“You still don’t look under you.”

“What?” You looked down and your breath stopped, seeing the array of bullet shells and spikes beneath you. “Now when did you get those?”

“Had them from the beginning, you just weren’t paying attention,” he shakes his head.

“Effectively, this would be a draw,” you looked around you, one misstep would be something of an unfortunate lego brick under your shoes. “Neither of us can move forward,” you explained.

“Oh yeah? Boring,” he shakes his head.

“This match is over,” you announced, stretching out your neck and, in seconds, all the weapons disappeared as if in a simulation and the cheering was deaf to you. “I like you, you’re not Brigade material, but I’ll find a place for you,” you held your hand out and he shook it.

“Sure, I look forward to it,” he says. 

“So, I have to ask, why didn’t you use them? Wanted to prove you didn’t need them?”

“You really think I would shoot you? Spar or not, I couldn’t do that,” he shakes his head. You stopped for a moment, but regained your senses before anyone could notice. “Now what?”

“I either get my ass kicked by the queen or we start your onboarding, should be quick, I’m putting you in one of the honorary squadrons,” you nodded. Jason followed you into the end of the arena. “What we talked about earlier? We discuss it to no one. Not Damian, not Tim, and no one on my team,” you said.

“What did we talk about again?” Jason caught your hint.

“Captain! Captain, we have a problem!” Marion was quick to meet you.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“That beast from a few months ago, the one that attacked the new recruits! It’s back! It’s in the courtyard right now! Aldryn’s moving the royal family to a safe house as we speak.”

“Shit,” you looked at Jason, then to Marion. “Take me there,” you pulled your phone out and held it to your ear. “All members of the Brigade report to the courtyard, we have another Daemon to take care of,” you held your hand over the speaker, “Mary how many of them are there?”

“We counted one so far, but if it’s anything like before…” She doesn’t finish her sentence.

“You take the recruits and go somewhere safe, we’ll call for help if we need it.” You ran off toward the courtyard and Marion looks at Jason.

“Who are you?” She asks.

“I’m with her,” Jason jogs after you. “What the hell is a Daemon, (Y/N)?!”

“We have monsters. This is a recent one that happens to decimate towns,” you explained, “why are you following me? Go somewhere far!”

“I wouldn’t even know where to go!” Jason defends. You both stop once you reach the outdoors and Jason swallows down his words. “That… is that it?”

“Whatever it is… that is not the one that attacked the recruits before,” you looked up. It was huge, bigger than anyone you had fought before. It towered over you easily while fresh blood dripped down its maw. It spots you and its ears straighten in alert while its eyes, empty white sockets, bored their way into you. Your eyes drifted to its neck and you could just barely make out the glint of metal that was hidden in its fur. You held your phone up again. “We need it alive.”

“Roger,” Nixon answered first.

“I’ll handle crowd control,” Alex says.

“I’m on my way now,” Eve was next.

“Can you handle it until we get there?” Carter.

“Sure… maybe.” The beast growled and, maybe you were just noticing it, but with every roar or grunt the skies seemed to get darker.

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[bluejaysandblackbats]

Catch and Release

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: AU where Jason doesn’t die in the explosion and he and Tim end up attending the same high school months later.

Chapters: 18/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, Sebastian Ives, Jack Drake, Janet Drake, Donna Troy

Relationships: TBA

Additional Tag: Jason Todd Lives, Jason Todd-centric, POV Jason Todd, POV First Person, Tim Drake Has Issues, Tim Drake Has Issues, Tim Drake is Not Robin, Jason Todd is Not Robin (Anymore), Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Alfred Pennyworth Knows, Stalker Tim Drake, Jason Todd Has Chronic Pain, Jason Todd Has PTSD, Angst with a Happy Ending, Unlikely Friends, Injury Recovery, Emotional Baggage, Rage, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating

Chapter Eighteen: The Campaign: Malatra Pt. 2

We took a break after introductions to get our dinner.  Alfred made chicken alfredo, which was a hit with the guys. I lingered in the kitchen with Hudson for a minute. “How do you feel about DM-ing for the first time?” Hudson asked. 

I sipped my soda. “I feel like you guys are just being nice,” I replied. 

“Trust me, if you sucked we’d all be booing you mercilessly. Do you like it?” Hudson questioned. I nodded as I sipped his drink. 

“Jason! Hudson! Are you guys coming or not?” Tim called. I laughed, shaking off my nerves as I went upstairs with my plate to my room. I took my spot and ate a forkful before falling back into character. 

“Theren Everlake circles the four of you, staring with unknown intent, his hair makes a sweet hollow noise in the wind… And he stops, tilting his chin downward and toward the side as he glances upon Fettar Keephorn. His jaw tightens, his eyes waver, and something beneath his stern and wooden facade, something in him breaks.” I acted out the movements for everyone before shutting my eyes. “Quickly. He turns his attention to Eldrid Deepwood. He extends a hand, bowing warmly despite his despair.”

“Your reputation precedes you. The last of your clan. I feel as though you will understand my anguish… Would you give audience to my humble and sorrowful request?” I asked in Theren’s voice. 

Ives finished taking a bite and everyone chuckled. The shift between Ives and Eldrid was perfect. His eyes widened and he glanced down and around him before looking straight at me. “Aye,” Ives answered, “There’s much grief here.” 

“We’ve lost someone deeply beloved to us… Or I should say, someone dearly beloved to us was captured. Lunathari… And in her absence, a mysterious illness has befallen our children,” I explained. 

“Where did they take her?” Hudson asked in Clay’s voice. It was a little more grownup than his voice. Hudson’s characters always jump headfirst into a mission. It didn’t take a lot to get him involved, but he was a wildcard. 

I looked straight at him. “You’ve returned to your forgotten home. In any other circumstances, this would be a joyous occasion. Lunathari would be overjoyed to see you once more… But I’m afraid this quest may take more than one person… If your traveling companions will accept this quest, I am willing to offer payment. What say you?” I questioned. 

Tim scratched his head and pretended to push his glasses up. “Well, Mr. Everlake. May I call you Mr. Everlake? My liege? Nevermind that. We’ll do everything we can to retrieve Miss Lunathari. Won’t we, Mr. Deepwood?” Tim asked in his girl voice. I finished eating dinner, and I wiped my mouth while I waited for everyone else to speak. 

“I reckon we could get her home if we all work together,” Ives answered, “Miss Moonfall is right. We’ll do whatever we can.” 

“I owe you that much,” Hudman mumbled. He didn’t look up. 

“Then, I see fit to remind you to return Lunathari to me. Unlike what you’ve done with Clay—.”

“Theren—.”

“Hold your tongue, Clay. You were only a boy when you left us,” I replied, looking at Hudson with a sweet fondness. Hudson’s cheeks went rosy, and he bowed his head. Tim’s eyes widened as he looked straight at me. 

**

After two hours, they made it down the other side of the mountain in view of the cave where Lyra the Torturer held her adoptive sister Lunatharia. “Can I try to sneak toward the mouth of the cave?” Hudman asked. 

“Roll for stealth,” I replied. Hudman rolled and everyone held their breath. 

“Nineteen, plus nine stealth advantage,” Hudman sighed. 

The guys knocked each other around in celebration. “You stroll right up to the entrance without being seen or heard. You’re just… close… enough… to… hear…” The alarm on my phone went off. “Sorry, guys. Time to clean up. Alfred’ll be up any minute to take you guys home.” 

Everyone groaned and started picking up their backpacks. I left everything in its place, and Tim took a picture. Ives and Hudman texted their parents to tell them they’d be home soon, and Hudson sat next to me on the floor. “Do you maybe wanna—? The school’s going on a trip next month. Maybe we can sit next to each other on the bus,” Hudson offered. 

“For sure, Hudson,” I smiled, “And thanks for being nice about me DM-ing. I was nervous you’d think I sucked.” 

“Hey, you’re doing fine… I’ll see you tomorrow at school,” Hudson smiled as he hugged me. I don’t think he was thinking because he rushed behind the other guys as they went down the stairs. 

They left me alone with Tim. He seemed happy. It was nice to see him happy again. “ Hudson? ” Tim questioned. 

“What about him?” I asked. 

Tim shrugged, still smiling as he set his die in the pouch they came in. “I don’t even know why you were worried. You should DM for the next campaign, too,” Tim smiled. 

“It’s a lot of work, though,” I replied.

“You love DM-ing. I can tell,” Tim smiled, but his eyes drooped. I could almost feel his sadness. 

I dropped down beside him, sitting on my bed with my hands clasped together. “What’s on your mind?” I questioned. 

“Mom… She used to read these books by R.A. Salvatore. She used to read them to me before bed, and it was our thing… And then, she started having me read to her… And then I started reading them to myself before bed. Jason, that’s why it means so much for you to host and DM like this,” Tim smiled, “Not only are we brothers, but you’re sharing something with me that Mom loved.” I bumped shoulders with him. 

“Are you sleeping in here tonight?” I asked. Tim nodded. He couldn’t sleep in his room. I couldn’t blame him. The manor wasn’t home for him. Not to mention, his parents’ house was a lot more friendly-looking on the inside. That… And the obvious stuff going on. 

**

I trained with Barbara on Wednesday, which mostly started with her taking me to physical therapy and then swimming. After we swam, Barbara went over the basics of self-defense in wheelchairs specifically. Always self-defense first. I think she knew the stress of losing Janet caused a flare-up of nerve pain in my legs. Maybe she saw it in the way I got out of the pool. 

Barbara was no-nonsense. She went over everything three times, and we did everything thrice. Unless I didn’t do things to her standards. “Nuh-uh. Sloppy. You’re coming up weak on that right arm block. I could push that arm right into your face,” Barbara replied as she pushed my forearm into my nose. It was humbling. And infuriating. And my temper was short.

I huffed and pushed my bangs back. “Okay! I get it,” I snapped. It wasn’t the first time she’d done it during training. That was the difference between her and Bruce. Bruce was way nicer about it when he trained me. 

I had to shake that thought off. I had to stop being sensitive and short-tempered if I wanted to get better. “Get it together. Three more times,” Barbara replied. I obeyed without any further complaint. If I could keep my head down and train hard, I could be back in fighting shape on schedule.

[mossfrg]

Lost Talon au 3/?

Imagine Jason’s reaction to Dick being brought back. Like, Jason was the Robin right after Dick died— he had the biggest shoes to fill, coming immediately after the original. He was constantly trying to live up to the standards Dick unknowingly set. After he nearly died by the Joker’s hand and made his own identity, Jason felt more comfortable with himself and out to bed his worries.

But then Dick comes back, and he comes back wrong.

Jason had always privately hoped that one day this older brother would appear and take the reigns for him. The he would get to meet The Dick Grayson, have that man as an older brother.

Instead, Jason is still the oldest, and now has to deal with a half-brainwashed (non-consensually!!) genetically modified 18-year-old almost assassin who’s 12ish years out of place. What the fuck. He did not sign up for this.

Tim feels much the same way. He’s older than Dick, and that’s not something that should’ve ever happened. Tim remembers seeing Dick at galas, remembers his warm tanned skin and bright blue eyes when he’d smile. Remembers being taught how to do a flip and a cartwheel by a boy who claimed to fly from chandeliers. Remembers a kind older boy sneaking him into the gardens when things got too loud and he was so young and couldn’t handle the way his parents looked at him but this older boy was giving him the time of day-

And now that boy is younger than him. Blue eyes replaced by cold, unflinching gold. Skin still tan, but paler with a gray tint to it; black veins crawl up his throat and down his arms. He’s cold to the touch. He’s still kind, but much more hesitant in showing that softness; more likely to flash his claws than return a gentle hug. And that’s not to mention the wings, over 20ft of feathers and muscle tucked between his shoulders (he still perches on chandeliers though).

Damian had never met the First Son his Father had taken in. He’s heard countless stories of the brave, kind, caring, innocent child who creates the Robin mantle. Who didn’t kill, who made jokes, who was kind and sweet and friendly. Damian, unlike the other two, didn’t worry about living up to Grayson, but to living up to the innocent he brought. How could Damian ever be a good Robin when his hands were stained with blood?

But then Grayson, Richard, had been found. And he had blood on his hands. Less so than Damian himself, of course, and less than even Todd or Drake. But still. It was blood. And he’d gone under much the same training Damian himself had. The First Robin, trained and bloodied like Damian. Who took one look at Damian wearing his family’s name and colors and beamed for the first time since they’d brought him home, wings extending to wrap around him as he cooed, who’d heard that Todd and Drake had also shared the mantle and dragged them into the hug too, proclaiming them family and his flock, “or colony if you really want to stick with the bat theme, B, but I think it’s telling that 4/4 of your sidekicks went with a bird theme, maybe you should think of being Birdman-“

Richard Grayson, who despite everything, still managed to be himself after 12 years. Damian thinks it gives him a little hope and privately, thinks that if Richard can be so good after what he’s been through, there’s a chance Damian can be good too. Not that he’s ever say that aloud; he’s the Blood Son after all, even if Richard was the First Son.

[94badbye]

Gotham mourns the day of Jason's death, and Tim Drake should too, but he can't.

It's a day of pain and sorrow in many, many ways. Bruce wakes up earlier and leaves earlier, and Alfred speaks softly and quietly, as if there's real grief in the air.

(There is. Tim knows. He remembers finding out about Robin, about Jason Todd, and then realizing the bitter truth behind it all. Robin is dead.)

In the beginning, people used to call Jason a street kid, a rat. Tim's memory has always been fantastic, and he remembers people's harsh words about that young, young boy, and how Bruce Wayne was fraternizing with poverty, while others were kinder, gentle and sweet, because if even a rich man like Bruce can do such a thing, then there's still hope. It was stupid, and Tim still can't understand how people can be so shallow.

Such a young boy, and Mr. Wayne was a hero by adopting him, by taking him under his wing, by treating him like his son.

It's been months, and yesterday Wayne Enterprises made a big donation to some shelters of homeless kids that is definitely going to be in the news, something about Bruce Wayne remembering his dead son's life.

Bruce took the day off.

It's weird. Every year, Bruce will mourn like Jason was just killed again.

Maybe. Maybe the Jason Todd he knows really is dead forever, and this version of him is what was left, something different and twisted.

If Tim tries hard enough, he can feel the scar on his scalp, the ugly pattern on his skin, close to his nape. And he can hear the shouts. And the screams. And the sound of broken glass being stepped on. Everywhere. And blood blood blood, a red mask standing over him, fists clenched and hoarse voice.

He feels like throwing up when he thinks about it. It's kind of hidden in his mind, but not exactly—a blurry memory.

Sometimes, he closes his eyes and has a flashback of a bloody uniform. A memoir. The uniform of a young soldier.

For some reason, the second Robin was known for being ruthless. Sometimes, in the past but not that long ago, Bruce would call Tim by Jason's name, and wouldn't even notice his mistake. Tim wouldn't correct him either.

Today, on day of Jason's death, Red Hood is nowhere to be found.

Big boots, strong arms, a gun. Sticky blood.

Replacement, Replacement, Replacement.

Now, they're in the Batcave, high-tech equipment everywhere around them. Tim is standing but Bruce is sitting down, typing something in one of the computers, because a day off as Gotham's bachelor doesn't mean a day off as Batman.

"B," Tim says. Soft but not too soft, because Tim isn't supposed to talk about today, not like that, not like it's easy.

Robin was created to save and to smile, never to suffer or to die.

"Hm."

"Are you okay with patrolling on your own?"

Say no, so I'll stay. Please. I'll sleep here, in my room, and we'll wake up tomorrow like this day never happened.

Please.

"Of course. You should go, Tim. It's late."

Never too late. He wants to stay. Bruce is big and tall and Tim wants to hug him and tell him about the scar that is never going to fade away and the blood and the glass.

Look what he did to me. I mourned too, but look what he did.

Anger is something no Robin should feel, and yet—

Tim's cheeks are suddenly warm and he looks away from Bruce.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Alfred can give you some food so you can eat when you get home."

"I'm not hungry. And I can cook, you know?"

Blue eyes, just like Tim's and Jason's, but Jason's are also kind of green. Tim wonders how much of a father figure Bruce used to be—did he buy Jason books and toys and watch movies with him? Did Jason have nightmares just like Bruce still has? If so, did Bruce hold him through it?

Tim's parents are traveling. They're coming back next month.

Bruce isn't there to hold him when he wakes up in the middle of the night, but why would he be anyway?

And Tim knows Bruce asks his next question more because he needs to than because he wants to, "You know you can stay the night whenever you want, right?"

Even tonight?

"Yeah. Yeah, I know, B. But I have school tomorrow, so… I should—I should go. See you tomorrow, kay?"

Tim doesn't even talk to Alfred about the food. He just leaves.

[damian-al-ghul-wayne]

cw & tw —> sigh ok. very triggering topics like death, self blame, etc.

its Damian trying to resurrect sleep-deprived-tim !

(I got permission to write this.)

⏜︵⊹︵⏜︵୨୧︵⏜︵⊹︵⏜

It was the adrenaline kicking in when Damian realized how long it had been. He remembered it since day one. Dragging Drake's body from the cite he died at. The blood that stained his hands afterward and how painful it was to try to get rid of it. The minutes turned into hours trying to ask himself how he could have let its own brother die right before him.

It had to be something he could've prevented. If he had been nicer— or even more inviting towards Tim, none of this would have happened.

Yet it did.

It was his fault. It always had been his fault. The guilt ate at him despite the ghost of Timothy whispering lies in his ear, telling them it wasn't his fault.

Yet it was.

Maybe it was the exact way that had gotten him to the point of being enveloped by green liquid, reminiscing how the strange warm heat that came from it was his mother holding him one last time, but in reality, it was his turn to hold someone.

Here he had been, holding Timothy's rotting body against his own in a Lazarus Pit, hoping that he hadn't waited too long. Broken humming came from Damian, with a string of sobs attached. In-between each note, Damian had whispered, "I'm sorry. Come back." hoping that it would be enough to relight that fire inside of Timothy. Coughs interrupted it's humming, as he felt himself choke on their own tears.

It wasn't enough‐ it wasn't enough. Itwasn'tenough.

"t–t..imot..hy" the name fell out of Damian's mouth like a broken melody. He had murdered his own brother, and now he had waited too long to bring back the one he cared for.

If Bruce had saw him now, would he call him a sinner for the acts he had committed to cause the death of it's brother?

If it were his mother— grandfather— would they be proud of the tears he was shedding despite the punishments of when he was a child for showing too much emotional weakness?

Timothy Jackson Drake made him pathetic and not in a good way. He was not supposed to be hugging the dead corpse of his so called sibling that he despised.

If Tim's ghost had been watching, and it hoped that she wasn't— he knew that they would be so disappointed in him. Everyone must been so greatly disappointed in him, because if they weren't, then why were they all leaving him behind?

Why was everyone that Damian had cared for deteroiating right in front of them. It should have been them. Instead of Timothy's lifeless body floating in the pit, it should have been Damian's.

He could take it. He had done it so many times before. So why was his position switched with his mother?

One of the first times that it had happened, Damian remembered his life draining from his eyes. His mother had held him, scolding him for not keeping a lookout— she had been trying so hard to be angry with him, but before Damian's life faded away completely, he remembered the way tears rolled down her cheeks. He remembered the look of horror on her face as she brushed away at his curls that were matted against his forehead, and once he awoke with a jolt of pain, he remembered that lullaby she sung to him.

It was an exact replica. Damian brushed Tim's hair from their own forehead, noticing more details on the other's clearly rotting face had, but it didn't stop them. Damian's green eyes shut tightly at the last stroke, pushing hair behind Tim's ear, and accepted that Timothy would not be coming back.

It was over. Damian had waited too long, and now his sibling was gone forever, and it had been all of his fault.

⏝︶⊹︶⏝︶୨୧︶⏝︶⊹︶⏝

@sleep-deprived-tim