#anyway dick jason and stephs hair has got to be like top ten i can never decide how to draw your hair

[sirhinkjinks]

aw, bats!

[jinmukangwrites]

Whumptober2021 - October 4th - Taken Hostage | Pushed

Gift fic to @fidothefinch <3

Fandom: Nightwing, Batman - All Media Types

AO3

Warnings: Near death experience, hostage situations, implies Bruce as a shitty dad but I don't go into detail on it.

---

If there’s anything in the world that Dick hates more than being restrained, it’s being held hostage. Especially if he’s being held hostage as a threat against Bruce or Batman. One thing they don’t tell you in the foster system is that if you’re adopted by a rich and famous to the Kardashian level man, is that you’re often the target of criminals who think snatching a kid on their way home from school is a surefire way to make a million bucks. It’s no better in the vigilante business either, because often any hero in Gotham is only seen as a stepping stool to getting to Batman.

Honestly, at this point Dick’s used to it. It doesn’t mean he enjoys it, though. Not so much because of the initial kidnapping part, but because he’s worked hard to become his own person, his own man with his own life. He moved to Blüdhaven to be anything other than the son of Bruce Wayne; to be his own hero that villains learn to fear. And then the second he sets foot back in Gotham, for whatever reason, suddenly it’s all about the reclusive eldest Wayne child returning home! Suddenly, when villains see him at night, it isn’t “Oh shit, it’s Nightwing!”, it’s “Shit, it’s a Sidekick! Where’s the Bat?!”

Anyway, long story short, Dick came back to Gotham for one weekend to visit family, and now he’s dressed as Nightwing, standing on a roof with duct-tape keeping his wrists together behind his back and a knife to his throat belonging to a shady businessman who’s finally caught the attention of Gotham’s heroes.

And it’s sorta pathetic how Dick ended up in this situation. It wasn’t like this was going to be a particularly difficult mission. Just sneak into the building, grab the evidence he needed to get this bastard behind bars, and then get out. Unfortunately, someone tipped the man off without Bruce knowing about it. When he went into the main office, he was met with a very strong guard hiding behind the doors, and after a hefty blow to the head and a few concerning minutes of blacking out, Dick opened his eyes—thankfully still masked—to find himself kneeling on the rough cement of a skyscraper’s roof, completely stripped of any of his useful tools. He has a small knife in one of his gauntlets, but it’s not exactly in an easy to reach position. It would take time to grab at it, and that’s not counting the high probability he’ll be spotted by Jerome McCoy--Gotham’s latest shady businessman--or any of his goons.

Besides, Tim is already up here listening to their demands to get Batman up here or Dick dies. It shouldn’t be long before Bruce gets here and kicks his ass. That’s not even accounting for the facts that Jason, Steph, Duke, Dami, and Cass are all in town.

These idiots have no clue how close they are with dealing with close to every single bat if something bad happens to Dick tonight.

And everything was going fine until Tim suddenly stopped mid sentence in reminding McCoy that Batman was on his way and brought his hand to his communicator in his ear. When Tim paled ever so slightly, Dick knew something had gone exactly NOT according to plan.

“What is it?!” McCoy demands, pressing the knife against Dick’s neck with worrying pressure. Dick leans his head back slightly to lessen the risk of his neck being cut and meets Tim in the eyes through their masks.

Tim swallows. “Batman is being held up-”

Dick resists sighing in both disappointment and lack-of-surprise as McCoy practically explodes.

“What?!

“Only for a few hours,” Tim rushes to explain. He’s lifted his hands in a placid manner and softened his voice, which can’t be good. “He’s… met an unexpected complication along the way that he cannot ignore. Please, just tell me what you want, and I can take my partner and be out of-”

“I don’t have a few hours,” McCoy practically screeches. “Either Batman makes it his priority to get here, or Nightwing gets it!” to make a point, McCoy lifts the knife from Dick’s neck and waves it in front of him. Dick slides his eyes over to the other goons on the roof; there’s only a few. Maybe… if Dick plays his cards right… “That was the deal!”

“I understand-”

“Tell Batman to get here now, or Nightwing’s blood is on his hands!”

“He’s busy- I can’t just-”

Dick slams his body back, pointing his elbow the furthest he can with the way his arms are bound and jamming it into McCoy’s stomach. McCoy lets out a startled, breathless gasp as Dick uses his surprise to escape from his grasp and jump to his feet.

“’Wing!” Tim yells at the same time McCoy wheezes “Get that fucker!”

Dick has just a second to notice Tim’s shock at Dick’s sudden attack before Dick’s having to defend himself with his hands literally tied behind his back. Sorry, kid, Dick thinks, ducking around a pair of beefy arms, but we’re out of options.

It was going well until it wasn’t. Tim was even about to step in. However, while waking up from his lovely whack to the head, Dick failed to assess just where he was on the roof.

All it took was for the back of his heel to tough nothing but air for his heart to jump to his throat. Instinctively, he tried to wave his arms to catch his balance, but was quickly reminded of his predicament when the tape tugged against his wrists. For a moment, pure panic filled his entire body, here, wobbling backwards off the edge of a roof dozens of stories above the ground. He could feel his heart pound, hands shake, breath catch, hair rustle in the wind, but he couldn’t do a thing to stop himself from falling backwards. He’s pretty sure he hears Tim scream his codename, but he’s not totally focused on anything other than his pending doom right now-

A heavy hand wraps around his upper-bicep, stopping his almost-promised journey to pancake town. Everything is silent on the roof for a solid moment, as Dick practically hangs over the ledge of the roof with his feet just barely still on solid ground, a goon holding him juuuuuust enough to make sure he doesn’t fall. Tim looks even paler than before, looking like he really did watch Dick go over the edge. McCoy looks a constipating mixture of smug and outraged while the other goons stand nearby like useless props.

Then, McCoy speaks with anger as heavy and level as stone. “Tell Batman I want him here in ten minutes.”

Tim meets Dick’s eyes, and Dick sees everything that he needs to. Whatever is holding Bruce up, it’s more important than Dick, and Tim knows it’s useless to even try.

“Please,” Tim says, voice wobbly. He’s a detective. He knows what’s about to happen. “Just give us more time-”

McCoy snaps a finger, and that’s that.

The hand on his arm pushes Dick away and opens it’s grasp. It doesn’t matter anymore that Dick had his feet on the roof, because the rest of his body is falling.

Falling.

Dick’s completely off the roof in a blink of an eye and he’s falling.

The air is rushing past his ears and through his hair, so loud he can barely think. That’s if he’s thinking at all, as story after story passes him by. He’s falling, and for the first time in a long time, he’s afraid of falling, because this time there’s nothing he can do to stop it. He doesn’t have any tools… he doesn’t even have his hands, nor enough time to even try and get his hands free. He’s falling, rushing to the ground. He can already see in vivid detail what his body will look like when it hits the pavement.

He’s falling. He’s standing at the top of a beam, watching his mama and papa fall. He’s falling. He’s screaming as the sound of their bodies landing and snapping reaches his ears. He’s falling and he’s going to die in the most Grayson way possible.

He’s going to die the same way his parents did, a way that he’s worked hard to not be afraid of ever since he first moved in with Bruce, but was always secretly terrified.

He closes his eyes. He doesn’t want to watch. He’s afraid, and Tim will watch from above and blame himself and he never wanted any of his siblings to blame themselves for his death like how he blamed himself for his parent’s for decades and-

And the wind is knocked out of him, but not from his body slamming on the ground. A strong arm wraps painfully around his stomach, and suddenly the world turns sideways and his eyes shoot open in shock.

“Fuck,” Jason grunts, holding Dick with one arm and the other wrapped tightly in a grappling line. “Fucking hell.”

And Dick… doesn’t know what to do. He feels muted, like a YouTube video playing at 144p and buffering still. The adrenaline is pumping so loudly through his entire body that the fact that Jason’s caught him doesn’t register until Jason’s landing roughly on the ground and lowering Dick to the asphalt.

“Started heading over the second that bastard said he wasn’t coming,” Jason explains. Dick nods numbly, his eyes locked on the oil covered road below him, his mind still trying to process. “Said he ran into some bastard working for Two-Face holding some rich family hostage. Said we could handle it. I can’t believe I got here just in time. Fucking fuck-face fucker.”

There’s a splash of two feet landing on the permanently puddled street beside them, and Dick can hardly contain his flinching at the sound, but thankfully Jason doesn’t notice. He just stands up and faces where Tim has landed quite suddenly from where he must have grappled down from the roof. Dick continues to look at the ground, wringing his knitting together in front of him. He… hasn’t noticed Jason undid the bindings.

“What happened to McCoy?” Jason demands, and Tim takes a gasping breath and shakes his head.

“They ran into the building while I… jumped after N.”

Jason growls, taking a step forward but Tim stops him. “Orphan said she’ll handle it, she sounded pissed.”

Jason backs off, but anger still curls in his stomach like an old friend. His fists clench to his side. “Once I see B, I’m gonna punch his teeth up to his brain.”

And it must be proof of how shaken Tim is, because he doesn’t argue.

Then, like a pin hitting tile, a small sound catches Jason’s ears. He looks down to where Dick is still sitting in the grime of Gotham’s street. His heart sinks to his gut.

“N?” he asks, and Dick doesn’t respond. “Nightwing, you’re… crying.”

That directs Tim’s attention down where tears are certainly streaming down Dick’s cheeks from under his mask. His lips are wobbling, and the second Jason kneels down to put his hand on Dick’s shoulder, a wounded sound escapes his lips.

“Dick?” Jason asks, his voice sounding shocked and unsure.

Dick looks up at Tim, looking one breath of the wind from falling apart. “You jumped after me?” His voice is small and brittle. When Tim nods slowly, Dick whimpers, dropping his head into his hands and letting out a sob. “You almost watched me die,” is all he says before he finally breaks down into mournful cries.

Jason looks up from where Dick’s now shaking and gasping into his hands and meets Tim’s eyes. Neither of them… has ever seen Dick get like this before. It feels wrong, like something in the world has shattered and can never be replaced.

“Lets… get him home,” Jason says, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” is all Tim can smartly bring to his lips while Jason scoops Dick into his arms and stands up.

Dick’s so out of it with his sobbing that he hardly reacts, just curls against Jason and continues to cry.

“You know,” Jason says quietly, “the scariest way to die, for me, is to overdose.”

And Tim understands.

“I… see.”

Jason nods, swallowing hard. “Yeah. So let’s just call it a night, get him some Alfred cookies, and just… let him take this at his own pace, okay?”

Tim nods, knowing that after years of Dick always going out of his way to help them with their trauma, their issues, and never asking for anything in return… it’s now their turn to return the favor. Dick looks so much smaller than Tim swears he’s ever seen him, curled up in Jason’s arms, trembling and sobbing. He silently promises to himself that he will do whatever it takes to make sure Dick gets through this, just like what he’d do for them, always. And Tim’s positive the rest of Dick’s siblings will do the same.

[incorrectbatfam]

Can I get headcanons for an au where Bruce adopted the kids when they /were/ babies, please?

Use the bathroom, get comfortable, and maybe have some tissues on hand.

For these headcanons, we’re gonna assume they were adopted in order of age, and that they’re all under 18. So Dick and Babs are 16 (with Babs being older), Harper is 14, Cass is 13, Jason is 12, Tim is 7, Steph and Duke are both 5 (with Steph being older), Carrie is 3, and Damian is 1. Yes, I’m aware that it diverges from canon age gaps but once you keep reading you’ll see why I did that.

Now for the headcanons (in no particular order):

Alfred is “Grandpa” and Bruce is anything from “Dad”, “Pops”, “Old man”, “Baba”, etc. All the other adults, like Kate or Clark, are aunts and uncles.

Steph and Duke compete over everything, like who can tie their shoes the fastest or learn to ride a bike first. Steph makes a point of letting everyone know she’s older, but Duke fires back with the fact that he’s taller. They’re both at the top of their kindergarten class and are known for butting heads, but God help anyone who decides to pick on one of them.

Harper got her first period at school while wearing white shorts. Thankfully, Dick and Babs came in clutch.

At school, Kon told Tim that he got ten dollars every time he lost a tooth. Tim tried to hack the system by pulling a bunch of teeth out at once (thankfully to no avail) until someone caught him.

Babs has a different secret handshake with each person.

When Damian first came along, everyone expected Carrie to be angry or jealous since she’d no longer be the baby of the family. And she was a little jealous at first. But the moment she saw him, her eyes went wide and she whispered, “He’s so tiny” and vowed to protect him with everything she had.

The last business trip Bruce took was when Cass was a baby, and the reason why it was his last one was that while he was abroad, Alfred sent him a video of Cass taking her first steps and he burst into tears in the middle of a meeting because he wasn’t there to witness it in person.

Dick once used Damian as a wingman to pick up girls. It worked so well that Jason tried the same thing, only to have it grossly backfire on him.

Whenever Bruce needs a break, Alfred will call everyone to the living room for one of his infamous spy stories.

Cass is the queen of April Fool’s.

Tim, Steph, and Duke regularly climb on each other’s shoulders to try to reach the cookie jar.

Harper is a pro at getting gum out of people’s hair. Tim is a pro at the exact opposite. 

Bruce gives Dick “the talk”. Dick then gives it to Harper who gives it to Cass who gives it to Jason and by then it’s so misconstrued by then that Bruce has to re-give it to all the kids.

One time Jason lashed out at school and it led to the teachers referring him to a therapist. Bruce stayed with him during the first appointment and Jason admitted to feeling unwanted because of what some kids at school said. Meanwhile, back at home, all the other siblings were trying to get their names to be Damian’s first word, like a competition. None of them ended up winning because when the other two came home, Damian called out to Jason. (And Jason cried on the spot because it didn’t matter what people said at school, he was wanted by the right people).

Group outings with the Kents or the Allens are a normal occurrence.

Harper gave Bruce a heart attack when she DIYed her hair dye and piercings.

The first time Tim saw a shooting star, he was convinced that aliens had arrived to take over the world. His conspiracy-driven panic spread to his younger siblings and that’s how Alfred found them all hiding in a blanket fort wearing saucepans as helmets.

Steph once got lost at the mall and the first thing she did was buy ten Build-A-Bears. 

Cass regularly carries her younger siblings like suitcases.

Bruce never rushed Dick into getting a license or helping out around the house.

Harper once snuck on a train to the next town without telling anyone because she wanted to ask Kate advice on coming out.

Nobody got any sleep for the forty-eight hours when Damian’s favorite stuffed animal went missing.

Duke is a LEGO kid. Carrie is a horse girl. Together they created the ultimate toy equine sanctuary.

Bruce can’t ground the kids. They’ve unionized.

Jason is no longer allowed to pick movies on account of the time he chose an R-rated slasher.

It’s an open secret that Cass accidentally left Tim at a haunted house once. 

Alfred custom sews a ten-person "get along" shirt.

Duke once snuck Damian to school for Show And Tell. Steph ratted him out almost right away.

Jason tried to make his younger siblings reenact Shakespeare. It lasted a good thirty seconds before it dissolved into people hitting each other with props.

As a big mystery/conspiracy theory person, Tim was wholly convinced that Damian was an extraterrestrial because the first time he saw him, it was at the hospital where Damian was hooked up to a bunch of machines after he was born. It wasn’t until after three different people explained the concept of preemies to him did Tim finally get it.

Carrie loves to play dress-up and will rope in anyone in the vicinity.

Bruce’s favorite song to sing to someone when they’re upset is Lean On Me by Bill Withers

Cass taught everyone obscenities in sign language and it was all fine until someone caught Babs at school and she got detention

Alfred can’t remember the last time the house was not babyproofed.

Between birthdays, holidays, Gotcha Days, and other special days, there’s always a reason to celebrate at Wayne Manor.

Whenever they fly on the private jet Duke's in the cockpit insisting he knows more about airplanes than the pilots (Alfred or Kate) bc he watched the Planes movie.

Harper got matching leather jackets for all the sisters.

Bruce gives Tim "coffee" that's 90% milk and a splash of coffee for flavor.

Cass and Jason communicate solely in inhuman grunts.

Carrie can and will latch onto the first person she sees like a koala bear.

There's a running gag among friends on how many siblings Dick has because he tells stories without ever using names.

Bruce comes home after a long day of work and everyone drops what they're doing to dogpile on him.

Harper only got an after school job to pay for her Club Penguin membership.

They all make snowmen in descending size order with Bruce's being this huge towering one and Damian's being like three inches tall.

The girls have a "no boys (except the baby) allowed" zone.

Carrie can't pronounce the letters "R" or L".

When Damian learns to crawl suddenly all the other family members become a jungle gym.

Bruce doesn't notice when someone invites a friend over without permission because what's a few extra kids anyway?

Harper comes out and for a week people wouldn't stop making bi puns.

They try to do that thing where each family member puts a different colored handprint on the mailbox and they end up running out of space.

As the oldest Dick gets stuck with babysitting or he's forced to let Jason tag along when he goes out (bc all parents make their older kids do that) and he resents it but at the same time no one can talk trash about his siblings.

Damian's animal collection begins when he brings in a mouse from the yard. (Cue the hilarious siblings-helping-him-hide-new-pets montages.)

Someone beat Bruce for “World’s most attractive man”, but that’s okay because he was voted “World’s happiest man” instead.

[skeletonwoman]

J is for Judgement

This is a part 2! Comes after a part 1, and a part 1.5!!

You smile at Dick when he darkens the pet stores doorway.

“Hey baby, hey baby,” he greets and you snort, coming around the counter to give him a hug. You’ve never been much of a hugger, but hell, he’s just the cuddliest.

Also he smells like a tasty man.

Pulling apart, he leans against your counter, an attempt at being casual and you hide a smirk.

“So, bestie,” he begins and you waver in place. Luckily the space is empty apart from the two of you. “I’ve got a thing tonight, if you’re interested in coming.”

“Going out on the town with my bestie?” You begin, about to rain him in stupid compliments.

“Ah- not, the town…” He cuts in and you hum, wrinkling your brow. “Dami is throwing the dog a birthday party,” his tone drags the words as if it’s a chore, even though it sounds like tonight might be the best of your life, “and it’s just a small gathering, family and close friends. I was wondering…”

He gives you a sneaky look.

“Yeeees?” you sing-song back and he licks his lips, trying to hide smile.

“If you were interested…” His mouth drags the words out and you feel like you’re vibrating from the inside out.

“Innnnn?”

“Coming with me to the party tonight?”

“Yeah!” You shout, throwing your fists in the air and bouncing around in a circle before pulling up in front of him, dropping your excitement and blanking your face. “Yeah, sounds cool, no biggie, if you want, no prob, Bob.”

Dick beams at you, still leant against the counter. “They’re going to love you.”

“You bet your ass they will, Richie!” Your bravado has his expression softening with affection, even as your stomach flips with a sudden and crushing panic. Hiding this, you catch his hand in one of yours and swing them. “I am excited to meet Barbaraaaa.”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes and grinning, before pushing off the counter and dragging you about the store.

“Help me get the damn dog a present, it can be from both of us, obviously,” he says, before muttering. “Dogs birthday party, Jason didn’t get a birthday party last year but the dog does?”

You don’t tell Dick about the guy today. You know he notes the scrawled number on your hand and he smiles a little, but when you don’t mention it, he doesn’t ask.

As you’re walking home, Dick having promised to pick you up later, you stare at your phone.

Debating.

Screw it.

Me: Hi, this is Y/N from the pet store, I didn’t get your name today

You wait ten seconds before shoving your phone into your pocket out of anxiety and instead focussing on tonights hellscape.

You have to make these people love you. You have to!

Ignoring the silence and stillness of your pocketed phone, you instead focus on reviewing what you know about Dicks family.

Surprisingly- little.

Honestly? You barely know anything about them.

Except:

               He has two dads, Alfred and Bruce

               He has four brothers, Jay, Tim, Duke and Damian

               He has two sisters, Steph and Cass.

               He has one not sister, Barbara, also his unrequited love

               He doesn’t have favourites between any of them.

Luckily, as you start up your stoop and your chest starts to heave, your phone vibrates in your pocket.

Unknown Number: I’m Jason

You wait. For something, anything.

After two minutes, you’ve entered your apartment and, phone still in hand, made your way to your closet.

After ten, you’ve set the phone back on your bed and are deciding between a red bodysuit and a yellow crop top.

After twenty, you’re in the shower and anxiously shaving your legs even though you’ve decided to wear long pants.

At the thirty minute mark, out of the shower with your hair wrapped but before you apply moisturiser, you pick up the phone and give in.

Me: What do you do, Jason?

Putting it back down, without much expectation, you pick up the moisturiser once more but pause when the device beeps again.

Jason: I’m a freelancer, mixed martial artist.

Jason: Do you like lunch? Or breakfast food.

You try to grin too wide at the messages. He seems a little… unsure, maybe. You’re into it.

Me: I love lunch, and breakfast- for lunch or breakfast. What do you think about dinner?

You nab your red bodysuit and slip yourself into it, then fight on your favourite pair of pink corduroy pants. Gazing at yourself in the mirror, you frown, look at your closet, frown harder.

No.

“You’re hot.” You growl to your mirror self. “I am hot. And I am loveable and tonight is going to be great and tomorrow you can go out with Jason and kiss that gorgeous face.”

His visage pops up before you, scarred and unusual.

You hope his scars are more innocent than- well, than other scars in this city.

Maybe he got them in the womb, or terrible acne that forms perfect lines.

Oh boy.

Jason: I usually work nights, late, and I’d hate to cut our night short because I need to get to work

Your lips purse.

Oh shit!

Dickard: I’m coming up, you better look hot

Shoving away your awful, awful, just awful realization, you look back up at yourself in the mirror and grimace. Throwing on a light coat of lipstick and a layer of mascara, finishing off the makeup you’d been wandering through while texting with-

No.

Leaping up, you grab your jacket- that guys jacket-

Oh hell, you’re so dumb.

Pushing out every thought to do with night time activities and vigilantes and, worse, villain criminals, you throw on the jacket, put your phone and wallet in the pockets, slip on some shoes and snatch your keys.

“Shit,” you murmur, spinning around and nabbing your perfume from the table and spritzing yourself and the jacket. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Bounding for the door, you wrench it open just as Dick raises his hand to knock. You stare at each other, for a moment, while you pant.

“Running late?”

Shoving Dick backwards into the hall, you lock up behind yourself and turn back to him with a cheesy smile. “Show me your Daddy, Dicky.”

His expression goes blank and you hiss out a breath.

“No. No! Don’t-”

“I think maybe-”

“Oh shut up,” you growl and he laughs, throwing an arm over your shoulders and leading you out of the building. “Y’know, I’ve don’t know that much about your family. Like I know the cast, obviously but you’ve literally never told me where you live, and you’ve never-”

Dick grimaces, and you can tell he’s unsure and maybe embarrassed.

“It’s fine, it’s fine, I’ll figure it out, I doubt they know much about me, anyway!” You laugh, your throat tight and panicked and he offers a weak smile and a quick squeeze.

  “Oh, f*ck me, Dick.” You stare at the gates.

The Gates.

Not to heaven, or arkham, or anywhere so pedestrian, oh no.

“F*cking Wayne Manor, Grayson? As in Dick Grayson, adopted son of Bruce Wayne?”

Dick shrinks in his seat, driving up the lane, since the gates had opened automatically, for him.

“I’m going to kick your god damn ass, Grayson, I’m going to end you, you’re the worst, literally the worst,” the car stops, “you’re so f*cking dead, you dumb bitch, I can’t believe you’ve done this,” your door opens, “and I’m just so excited to meet your family, Dick! Hahaha!”

You take the hand proffered through the car door and rise to come face to face with- shit- Tim Drake.

Recognisable, famous Tim Drake.

“Hi! Dicks brother Tim! He’s so proud of you,” you greet and Tims lips twitch upwards at the sides, though his slightly warm, slightly protocol expression changes little beyond that.

“Welcome, Y/N, Dick’s mentioned you a lot and we’re all so excited to finally meet you. In the flesh.”

You try not to frown at his weird phrasing, only for it to get worse.

“Oh. Did Jason leave his jacket in your car again, Dick?” Tim asks, his gaze moving from the jacket on your shoulders to Dick, who is sidling up beside you.

Jacket. Jay. Jason. Phone number. Freelancer. Night time work.

Shit, shit, shit, please be a coincidence, please be a coincidence. F*cking Dick, f*cking shit, damn, heck.

You smile absently at the pair.

“Oh, no, this one is apparently very similar to Jasons but Y/N has assured me she found it in her building,” Dick assures him, and you look between the two, gauging their reactions.

Tim grimaces, and Dick frowns at him.

A vigilante gave you this jacket. You just got the phone number of a possible vigilante named Jason. Dicks brother Jay is named Jason and he’s got a jacket like this.

Please.

Hell.

You spot others emerging behind Tim, from the gigantic Wayne Manor doors.

Dick’s eyes dart to them and he slings a comforting arm over your shoulders.

“Let’s get in and out of the cold, hey Tim? C’mon, lead the way.” His voice is jovial but he holds you back a second as Tim sends him a look then starts toward the doors. His face tilts toward yours, a soft whisper coming through your hair to your ear. “I’m so sorry, I should have said something sooner, it’s a- it’s hard to explain, you know I’m adopted, we’re all pretty adopted around here and it’s such a difficult situation and its not like I have the greatest relationship with Bruce and- I’m sorry, Y/N, I should have said something sooner.”

The apology brushes over you and you tilt slightly against him, your forehead setting against his shoulder and he presses a kiss onto the top of your head.

“Thanks, kiddo.”

“We’re two years apart, you galumphing oaf.” You growl back, just as you step through the doors and come face to face with a group of people staring at the pair of you.

Your eyes lock on a beautiful red haired woman, her face stark for a long moment as she takes in the pair of you before everything on her face is hidden with a blink of an eye.

Oh crap.

You step out of Dicks grasp, pointedly, and offer a weak smile to the red haired girl. Barbara.

Shit, hell.

Everyone stares at the movement and it takes you a second before you see him.

“Is that Jasons jacket?” A kid asks loudly, Damian, hopefully, but your eyes don’t stray from the man at the back.

Jason from the pet shop.

“Relax everyone,” Dick laughs, his eyes moving from you to Jason and the pair of you stare at the obvious expression on his face. Dicks voice trails off. “It’s not Jasons…”

“Jesus and the Joker,” you gripe, your eyes darting from Barbara to Jason to Dick.

“So this is your jacket?” Dick asks, gesturing to the beat up brown coat on your shoulders. “How’d she get it? How’d you get it?”

Jasons head twitches in a shake, eyes locked on yours and you squint at him.

“No! Jason. Don’t make her lie. How’d this happen? Why’s she still got it?” He glances at the staring group and sighs. “She got it like a week ago.”

“Three days.”

You grit your teeth, glaring at Jason.

“Shall we, everyone, head into the living room? Alfred, dinner?”

Your eyes dart to Bruce Wayne, his voice and face clearly recognisable from several television segments, and you watch as the group silently and with thick tension move single file through a door. Beside Bruce, another man, Alfred, you guess, steps up close to him and murmurs something before Bruce nods.

Beside you, Dick tangles your fingers.

“Hey, best friend?”

Your eyes slide up to his and he offers you a pathetic smile.

“Dick,” you say softly, as the others exit, leaving the pair of you a moment. “Cards on the table, a group of those people who run around at night visited me and then that night you were out with Jay one of them visited again and he gave me his jacket and then he took it back but then he gave it back and then Jason came into the pet shop today before you did and I got his number and I texted him and I realized that hot guy Jason from the store was some kind of vigilante guy because of what he said and now I get here and they’re the same person and your brother Jason is the Red Hood? And he’s running around with other vigilantes who have hair the same as these people we’ve just walked into and please call me crazy, Dick, that I’m a big ol’ loon, please?”

You don’t mess with the f*cked system in Gotham and you certainly don’t get involved with someone involved with the f*cked system.

“I’m Nightwing.” Dick says in a rush. “And kinda Batman.”

Your nose wrinkles as you try not to burst into tears.

Just… One thing after another.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Dick pulls you into his chest and you don’t resist. He’s Nightwing but he’s still your Dickie, your platonic soulmate. “I was going to tell you soon, but I know how you feel about all of it and I didn’t want you to hate me or my family before you met them.”

“Dick!” Someone yells obnoxiously before being loudly hushed.

“I didn’t know about this Jason thing, I wish he’d have spoken to me, this is my fault for mentioning you to them.”

You hug him tight before pulling back and shaking out your hair. Pasting on a smile, you beam at your best friend.

“It’s a party, Dick, for a dog, I think we should focus on that for now and hope I haven’t ruined any chance to make Barbara like me.” You laugh half-heartedly, before taking his hand and stepping purposefully toward the doors everyone else waits behind.

Heck this was a heck one like just definitely took a while and quite stressful to write idk what was going on

[prettylittlebrownskingyal]

I hv this college AU in my head where all the bat kids (of age so i guess no Damian) are in uni and meet/hang with the teen titans and young justice bunch Wally snd Dick do sports together, Steph and Duke judge from afar while fooling around with board games. Jason and Victor Stone play beer pong idk i fuck with it

Note: you know, I was just gonna say YES, I LOVE THIS and then my dumbass brain went, “Write a thing. Write a thing. Write it hoe.” so here’s 1.5k of utter madness.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption. Lot’s of it.

He may not remember how he made it back into his bed, with only one shoe, no socks and glitter in his hair. But he definitely remembers how it all started.

The break begins with Dick banging on his door at the ass crack of dawn, a disgruntled Tim in tow and a bellini in hand.

“Carpe diem, baby bro.”

They fumble their way through making breakfast, keeping Alfred on facetime even with all the swearing and cursing and dropped utensils. Damian pops across the screen from time to time to whine about being bored at home and mock their collective incompetence.

It’s a huge spread; they’re cooking for mostly college athletes, after all. Dick goes around forcing extra bits of bacon and pancakes and fruit onto the freshman’s plates. Bart and Jaime dig in earnestly, but Tim takes an extra dose of coaxing because he’s too stubborn for his own good. Dick persists though, roping in a sagely Steph to remind Tim that he’ll probably be the first one to pass out anyways.

“Hey. Hey! No assignments at the table, today’s about getting wasted.”

Raven flips Wally the bird, slapping her laptop closed and leaning over to slip it back into Kory’s tote.

“Do something productive,” Garfield says. “Take this and knock it back. Show us who’s boss.”

She leers at the offered beer with disinterest. “It’s not even 10 yet.”

“Exactly, daylight’s burning.”

“I seriously doubt our only goal today is to just get wasted.” Duke’s worried voice draws the attention of all the seniors. They exchange amused glances over his head.

“You poor, innocent little bean,” Zatanna says, throwing her arms around him. “You’re in a frat house full of NCAA athletes and scholastic decathlon nerds who don’t get the chance to drink for most of the semester. Today is absolutely about getting wasted.”

***

He’s somewhere between buzzed and tipsy. Happy in the warmth of the sun.

It’s the first time in a while that he’s felt the tension of school slip away from his shoulders. His assignments are done, his family and friends are all around him and he’s having the time of his life watching Cass mix extra vodka into the already triple spiked rum punch. It’s both disgusting and delicious. And judging from the way Kon’s draped himself over Tim in a nearby lawn chair, it acts fast.

Barrelling straight towards blackout drunk for no other reason than the glory of college is an utterly fascinating idea and Jason finds it hilarious how willing most of them are to participate.

Dick’s already been amped up to giggly and incoherent. He and Wally are hunched over a phone, snickering at something Jason hopes is just the front camera opened up to their stupid faces.

“Here you go, buddy.” Roy’s voice grabs his attention as he passes over a plastic-wrapped sandwich to him. “You good?”

It’s the third time he’s asked for the day. Despite the fact that Jason is kinda wasted, he knows that Roy’s probably a little uncomfortable being around most of the people he loves, watching them get hammered while he’s stone cold sober.

“Yeah. You?” he asks through a bite of tuna on whole wheat.

“Peachy. Wanna go let Steph and Babs crush our asses at poker?”

****

“Can we go get fro-yo?”

Tim’s voice is soft and buttery, the way it gets when he’s shit-faced. Jason can hear Kon murmuring in agreement and Duke’s firm denial over the base of a Rihanna song. They’re a mess of gangly legs, draped over each other on the lumpy couch. He’s so caught up in watching they way their alcohol-induced affection is driving Duke up a wall that he misses Raven taking her turn.

He groans as the ball lands in a red solo cup. Kory grins wildly, hooking her chin over Raven’s shoulder; their both wearing looks of smug victory and he just knows he’s going to have the worst hangover tomorrow as he plucks another half-filled cup between his fingers, forcibly gulping down the amber liquid it holds. Vic slides over for his turn. He throws the ball and lets out a hiss as it misses the cup in the middle of the table, completely. Garth gives Jason a sympathetic head shake as he steps up to throw back the beer.

“It’s not fucking fair. How are you both star football players, bro? You guys suck at this.”

Vic laughs, pointing a finger at him. “I’m letting that slide because you’re the one throwing back my drinks for me.”

“Hey,” Raven intones. “It could be worse, Kory wanted to do this with tequila.”

“I’m actually hoping to leave college with my liver intact. Please, and thank you.”

Steph’s laughter, bubbly and sharp, cuts over the music. “Remember in freshman year when you got high and asked me how likely it was you’d survive a liver transplant?”

“You’re in med school, I thought you would know!”

She still laughing at him when she turns back to the complicated game of jenga she and Cass have had going for the past hour. He’s way too mellow to even begin to understand it, but he strongly suspects Cass is cheating.

***

Somewhere along the lines of beer pong and pizza Artemis Crock and Cissie King-Jones, the ace co-captains of the archery team, talk Duke and Tim into doing shots. He watches for a good ten minutes before he’s suckered right in alongside them. When Tim does inevitably pass out, Kaldur— who’s sober and very amused— lugs him off to bed.

That’s right along his memory get’s fuzzy. He knows there was dancing. He remembers being tugged along by Kory, yelling Beyoncé lyrics at the top of his lungs as he’s sandwiched between his siblings and his friends.

There are flickers of Kyler Rayner doing body shots and double dog dares with Mia Dearden and Connor Hawke. He has a video on his phone of Bart doing a keg stand while Wally looks on with a mixture of horror and pride plastered across his face. There’s a whole album of Dick trying to pet a stray cat, his nose red and the pictures getting blurrier and blurrier as his allergies set in.

After that, he thinks it was suggested that they all go outside to watch the sunrise. Someone— one of the redheads — had placed a steadying hand on his back as he swayed from foot to foot. He’s pretty sure he confessed his undying love to them.

****

When he does wake up, it’s because his head feels ready to fall off his shoulders and his mouth tastes like ass. The whole house stinks of sweat and the floors are sticky with spilt drinks. He bumps into Kon in the hallway, they exchange withering stares and a fist bump before parting ways.

He finds everyone in the kitchen— with the exception of Roy, whose a chipper bastard— in a similar state of dissonance with their bodies. Dick’s got his head in Kory’s lap and his feet in Wally’s. Tim sits across the table from them, staring at a glass of water like it personally offended him and Steph’s on the floor to the left of him, forehead pressed to the fridge. She has glitter in her hair too.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” Roy laughs. “You look like shit warmed over.”

“Thanks, man.” He spares him a glance, “Did you put me to bed last night?”

“I did,” Kory answers, her voice rough like gravel.

“Thanks, dude. Where’d my shoe go?”

“Dunno. Found you without it, I think.”

In the living room, Jaime’s lying face down on the couch with a pillow over his head, Bart keeps shuffling over to check his pulse and then back to the kitchen to gulp down water. Roy feeds them all toast and grins when a fresh-faced Cass breezes in through the doors. She plops a bottle of Advil onto the table gently and then sweeps away to watch the ensuing chaos.

“Me. First.” Tim growls, snatching it out of Dick’s hands.

Steph rouses herself then, looking around the room bleary-eyed. She clocks Jason and his head full of glitter, raising one hand to twist her fingers through her blonde locks, and then her other one to point at him like, “Hey, same.”

Donna drags herself in a little bit later. She immediately flings herself into a chair and drops her head down onto the table with a clunk that surely worsened her hangover headache. Vic and Kaldur, fairing better than the rest of them, snort through their breakfast as Roy peels off his sweatshirt to place it under her head.

He finds his shoe floating in the tub of quadruple rum-punch when their cleaning that evening. Garfield laughs so hard at him for a good ten minutes before clutching his skull and dropping down onto the porch steps, weakly.

At a quarter to four, Duke walks down the steps wearing the face of a man who knows nothing but utter betrayal.

“I’m letting you all know,” he calls. “I am not doing this again next year. I feel like death and I wanna call Alfred and cry.”

“Aw, Duke,” Dick coos. “Same.”

[incoherentbabblings]

Unspoken Promises

Sitting on the car roof waiting for Zatanna to show up, Stephanie became acutely aware of how their leaving home must have looked to the rest of the family, and makes her think about what want from the future, especially after everything had come crashing down in the aftermath of Brother Eye and the Batman of Tomorrow.  Tim for once isn’t thinking too deep about it.  

2,500 words on Tim and Steph cuddles from YJ #5. AO3 Link here!

So for all my doubt about Bendis (He also liked my tweet I sent him thanking him for making TimSteph so cute so like… that gave me a whump of validation right there) I was so over the moon with his interpretation of Tim and Stephanie’s relationship that it actually got me to write fanfiction for the first time in about a decade (ooft).  I am following in the grand DC tradition of what is continuity in that I am writing as if the Bat’s History is all in tact, but YJ and Teen Titans is just what had been established in the New 52.  How does that work? It doesn’t but never mind that I wanted to write mush

Anyway here is Tim I look at my girlfriend as if she hung the stars at night Drake and Stephanie We have 100% ran away from home which means we are 100% eloping which means yes I will marry you no you don’t even have to ask Brown.

There are like…so many references to past and current stories and dialogue in this, as well as my previous babblings on their relationship.  

Anyway, enjoy!!!

He had a habit, she’d noticed, ever since they’d been together, of holding her face. His fingers had always been cold, but dry, and his palm fit neatly along her jawline. He was always soft with her, and she wouldn’t dare have it otherwise.  When she isn’t talking, and he isn’t smiling and humming indulgently at her wittering on, he seemed to be nothing more than quite content to just hold and stare at her. Like the sun is infused in her hair. Like her and her alone is immune to the anti-life equation, like she is life’s meaning. Like she is so precious that she might be gone the next morning.

 Because that did happen once, when she was left to die without him. Does Tim hate me? She had asked Batman. No. Bruce had replied. He adores you. Always has.

Only now with them lying on the bonnet of Tim’s red car, his stare so openly reverent, Stephanie found herself trusting Bruce’s statement to the dying girl with a broken body (and heart).

He’d been taken from her too, violently and so suddenly that she had found herself talking to a clay program of his, so starved for his face and hungry for his advice… Then again Stephanie had heard from other sources that he’d considered throwing what he’d thought was her corpse into a Lazarus Pit, so maybe they were both reliant on the other to act as a guide.

Those Batmen she’d seen, first the one from a future where she was either dead or under what seemed like permanent house arrest (it wasn’t clear), and then one made of corrupt dreams and corrupt computer programs… They were ones she’d silently promised herself that she would reel in within Tim whenever they reared their ugly, twisted heads. She’d remind him, remind them why they wanted to help people. The two of them didn’t know any other way, not anymore.

How stubborn they were that they scraped their way back to each other.

Stephanie soon grew shy being gazed at by Tim and leaned forward.  One hand tightened in his sweater, whilst the other cupped the back of his head. He quickly got the idea and leaned forward, their lips touching briefly for a moment before she readjusted her position, straddling one his legs to get a firm pressure between her own.

Tim’s smile turned cheeky then, and he began to push up into a sitting position.  Stephanie gave a slight grunt, and forced him back down, hand slipping down his top to grip at his hip. She kissed him deeply.

A bird took off near the car, disturbing some fallen leaves on the ground.  It was still warm enough at sunset to not have to wear a coat, and both of them had opted for oversized sweaters, Steph in her customary purple, Tim in his usual green.  They had been travelling for a few weeks now, enough for the new school year to have started, and yet here they both were, several states down, in DC, nowhere near Ivy University in New England.  The thought made Stephanie giggle.

“Now you have to admit it!” She exclaimed, thumping her head down to rest on Tim’s chest, listening to his heart beat.  Solid.  Warm.

Tim meanwhile was looking awfully smug, one arm cradling her shoulders, pressing their already entangled bodies closer, the other arm thrown up behind his head.  His eyes were shut, and he was smirking.

“I don’t have to admit anything.” 

“Admit it!”

“I was raised by Batman, Stephanie,” – and right on que her eyes rolled up to her skull.  Batman Batman Batman – “I am a stubborn master.”

“Admit we ran from home!”

That got him to open his eyes and stare at her once more.  He was indulging her again, she knew, and she let him do so.

“A Batgirl and a Robin told everybody we were going off to college and then we drove the other way.”

“Because we’re in the middle of an investigation into the –”

She interrupted him, whispering the phrase “Nobody knows where we are!” conspiratorially, as if they weren’t sitting outside one of the most heavily monitored buildings in the county.  But sure, they were definitely back in New England, studying at one of the country’s most prestigious universities.

Not that they didn’t leave with the purest intentions, this investigation into timelines and universes…  However neither had the foggiest clue where to start.  Tim had recalled Dick and Bruce talking of Wally, the idea that something or someone been messing with time or memories. To avoid Bruce catching wind of what they were up to, they had asked Black Canary, and Dinah had suggested magic, which had led them to Zatanna.

Tim knew Bruce knew they weren’t at college.  He just didn’t want Bruce to know why.  This trip was partially for him and Steph to be alone.  Properly.  Without Bruce and his weird secrets and mind games. Without the pressure of fighting crime each night with all its mental and physical traumas.

Without Cassandra bursting through their window with takeout after a night of training, catching Steph in her nightshirt and Tim with his pyjama bottoms halfway up his legs. 

It had been going well, as well as could be expected of two seventeen-year olds going on a targetless road trip.  Tim had enough money to his name to keep them going for more than enough time, and Stephanie didn’t want for much regardless. 

Still, this trip had a purpose, and they both hoped that speaking with Zatanna would orient them in the right direction. 

“I’m just saying,” Stephanie continued, now grinning back at Tim’s softening smile “The only thing missing is the circus for us to join.”

It was almost funny how their conversations always came back to their future together.  They were still so young but they always spoke of what their lives would be, could be, five, ten, fifteen years down the line. 

Not that the circus was a serious suggestion, but it made her point all the same.  They had split off from the family back home, deliberately gaining some distance.  They’d not spoken to Bruce since he’d waved them off, hearing that they’d get the official wedding invite ‘any day now’ (any day now had been going on for weeks at this point, both were afraid to enquire for an update).  They’d not heard from Dick in even more time (something was going on with the Titans, on and off the field, but Tim hadn’t chased it).  Damian and Jason were enigmas as usual to them (coming and going as they pleased).  They’d get the odd photo and message sent from Cass and Duke and Barbara, the three of them seemed to be forming a little huddle, but for the most part, it was radio silence.  Maybe Bruce had encouraged it for once.  Leave them alone.  Let them be teenagers.  They can figure it out if they want to do the superhero gig on their own.

Or maybe that was too forgiving of an assumption of Bruce.

The other day Stephanie had been filming Tim being a dweeb, and she had muttered about making their (hypothetical) children watch this so they could be assured that their (hypothetical) father was never once cool ever.  Tim had just laughed and argued that she was just as bad as he, she was only better at covering it up.  He didn’t flush at the mention of children, and he didn’t call out at her statement at all.  It was a quiet assumption between them, the idea of children (plural.  Both had been so lonely growing up they couldn’t bear the thought of repeating their parents’ mistakes).  An unspoken promise never confirmed aloud.

Seventeen years old and they were already thinking of when they’d be thirty five.  Maybe one near (actual?) death experience each made them grip to that future tightly.  They would have it all.  They would help people until there was no longer a need for them to do so anymore, upon which they could bow out, ready to drop the double-faced world they occupied.

It had been temporary for Tim, initially.  He didn’t so much as want to be Robin as he was at the only one who could be Robin. 

It had been temporary for Stephanie, initially.  She couldn’t let her father go on hurting people, and she was at first the only one who knew what weird, over the top schemes he’d managed to cobble together. 

It was supposed to be temporary, for both of them. 

I can make it all work.  I can make a system that can sustain itself… After all that, I can take care of myself.  Take care of us.  I promise.

 And yet that promise he’d made aloud, mere hours before everything had blown up in their faces – literally – had been a rude awakening that their line of work didn’t allow easy early retirements, not truly. 

That was okay though, not today didn’t mean not ever, or at least, that’s what they had both told themselves at night sleeping in assorted cheap hotels.  The receptionists had always given them funny looks, no doubt Tim and Stephanie probably did look like young eloping teenagers.  Tim had surprised Stephanie in his reaction to their expressions, putting his foot down when affirming yes we want a double bed no not twin singles.  When checking out in the morning Tim defiantly left the bed an unmade mess, as if they were a pair of rabbits who couldn’t get enough of each other, as if trying to earn that slightly disapproving look from across the counter. 

She thought maybe he was tired of people giving their opinion on the two of them being together. 

And ultimately, that is what they were wasn’t it?  Teenage sweethearts running away from home.

And to the circus, if that’s what it came down to.

Stephanie’s buzzing phone and Zatanna’s arrival had brought an end to the feeling of joviality.  Stephanie’s thoughts were being torn in two directions.  She couldn’t stand the thought of her father running around doing as he pleased, and she had a sudden sharp stab of fear for her mother, but she had just reaffirmed that she was staying with Tim come hell or high water.  Tim made the decision for her.  He knew she wouldn’t be focused going forward unless she chased down her father, so gave the both of them a three day deadline. 

“You’ll be focused and I’ll have a start.” He stated.  He was dressed in his uniform, looking somehow both dashing and fragile at once.  What he thought he knew had been shaken again, except for the blonde girl standing in front of him.  The one who was looking at him with a slightly befuddled but still endeared smile. 

“I love you Tim Drake.” She said, ignoring for a moment where they were and what he was dressed as. 

There was a beat of silence.  Enough to make Stephanie uncomfortable.  He had usually always been the first to declare it to her.  Now that she had uttered it first, he seemed at a loss on how to respond.  She decided to prompt him, trying not to sound too desperate when she asked:

“Did you hear –?”

“I’m madly in love with you, Steph.”  He blurted out.  His smile widened until he looked overjoyed.  “I was just about to tell you that.  I was going to tell you I was so happy you were in my repressed memories, too, because I didn’t want – ”

A life without you was how he was going to finish his declaration before she threw herself at him, smacking a kiss on his lips, and Tim saw his world go pink for a moment.

He had been relieved that she’d been in those memories.  She had to have been.  She was the only one, for so long, who knew him as both Robin and Tim.  The Teen Titans had asked and asked but he’d always been so reluctant to cave in, whilst part of his fear of leaving the title of Robin would mean losing Bruce and Dick and Barbara, for what possible reason could Tim Drake have to associate with them?  It was different now, he was Bruce’s adopted son, so their connection could not be severed regardless of him wearing a mask or not, and he had opened up to his friends, slowly but surely. 

She was still the person he wanted to be with him every step of the way.  She’s never cared what title he’d held, she’d cared more about the way he held her.  This was his chance though.  She had always been stuck on the fringes of their generation, not having many close friends outside of Gotham.  If his friends and family could become hers… he just wanted her with him every step of the way.  It was selfish of him he knew, but she deserved a better family than the one she’d been born into, and he had the opportunity to give it to her.

She was gripping the front of his uniform tightly, and he was holding her shoulders.  Leaning forward, he put their foreheads together with a gentle thunk.  Still smiling, he reminded her of the three day deadline.

“Two days.” She pushed.

“Promise?” He looked at her, and she smiled guiltily.  How many broken promises had they made to each other?  How many had they kept?  How many had remained unspoken, for fear of them never coming true? 

“I can’t.” Stephanie exhaled unsteadily, her eyes tearing up. 

He didn’t sound disappointed when he responded, “I know.”  He understood.  Better than anyone he understood the danger of promises and oaths. 

For a brief moment she longed for them to forget responsibilities and be utterly selfish.  Run away to the circus like she’s joked.  Confirm every suspicious look those receptionists had given them for the past four weeks.  Leave behind broken families who didn’t know what good communication meant between the lot of them and start a newer better family in its place.  It was a whim that would remain in her head, but she answered the question she would sit and wait for over the next twenty years if need be out loud, as both a promise to Tim and to herself.

“…But I do.”

Tim didn’t say anything more in response, but looked up at her, his forehead still pressed to hers, and breathed a laugh.  He knew what she’d meant when she’s said I do, of course he figured it out, but he also knew to let it remain out of context.  Another unspoken promise. 

They’d be fine.  More than fine.  He would find his friends and he would take care of them.  They’d scraped their way back to each other for a reason. He couldn’t let her, or Conner or Cassie or Bart or any of the others, slide by any longer.

Another unspoken promise. 

[iamchrissi]

Long Nights

For the Batfam Week 2018; prompt; Family Night

Tim has had a long day at work, and now only wants to prepare for patrol. His siblings have other plans.

Also on Ao3

It's late evening when Tim finally gets out of the office. A planned cooperation with Queen Consolidated might make a lot of sense when discussed in terms of the Justice League, but selling the whole thing to the highly intelligent Wayne Industries analysts had been a completely different thing.

He has to shake himself awake a few times on the ride to his apartment. Thank god Bruce gave him the self driving car a few months back. Better to allow himself a bit of tiredness now, and then later be awake for patrol than the other way around.

He can get coffee at home.

Finally, he arrives at the apartment. He feels slightly more awake than he was in the car, which is good. Looking on his watch, he has at least half an hour to write some of the reports for tomorrow before he has to show up for patrol.

Caught up in thoughts about the business cooperation with Queen Consolidated, he opens his door and nods at Jason and Damian on his couch while walking towards his kitchen.

Then he stops. Blinks. Turns back. Jason and Damian are sitting on his couch. What are Jason and Damian doing in his apartment, sitting on his couch?

“You know, we had this whole thing planned with singing and candles and everything, but you are like, way too late.” Jason says, sounding kind of annoyed. Which... what is going on? What would anyone be singing for, and since when do they do candles? They only do candles for Christmas or birthdays? Did he miss someone's birthday?

“Happy Birthday, Tim!” Suddenly, Dick is hugging him. Tim blinks, tries to remember the date. Right. It's his birthday. How in the world did he manage to forget about that?

“Did you seriously forget your own birthday?” Jason asks, sounding both fondly amused and completely unbelieving. Which Tim thinks is unfair. At least he actually has a day job.

“You are like, way to stressed.” Steph says from his right, and then she makes grabby motions with her hand until Dick lets Tim go. Then she goes and hugs him herself. “Happy Birthday.” She says.

Then he's handed over to Jason, who hugs surprisingly nice. Then it's Cass, who smiles softly. Then Damian's standing in front of him, shoving his hand forward. For a moment, Tim has no idea what that's supposed to be about, then he gets it and shakes the hand.

Then he's herded to the couch. There's a cake there, a nice one, and lots of finger food. Tim doesn't actually know when he last ate. This morning? He knows he was too busy to go for lunch, but he's sure he had at least a protein bar for breakfast. Or was that yesterday?

“Not that I don't appreciate this, but... we have to go on patrol in like, half an hour, right?” Tim says, and is greeted with various annoyed and horrified looks.

“It's your birthday, Tim! We're not going on patrol. We'll stay right here and celebrate!” Dick says, slinging his arm over Tim's shoulder. Tim should move away, he thinks, if he wants to have any chance at winning this argument, but... he's not sure if he wants to win, really. And Dick is comfortable, and safe, so...

“But the city, who will protect it?” Tim asks, because while a night with his siblings sounds kind of amazing, he's also very aware that as the vigilantes of Gotham they have certain duties. He doesn't think he could live with himself if someone got hurt just because he decided to celebrate with his siblings instead of being out there helping people.

“Kate is back in town, and she brought Dinah and Helena. Selina's helping them. Anyone who tries anything while they're on the streets is going to regret it.” Jason says, and... okay, that's good planning. Between Batwoman, Black Canary, Huntress and Catwoman, the city should indeed be safe.

“Now, what do you think of a movie?” Steph asks, holding three DVD's in his face. Mulan, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's stone, and the Incredibles. Children's movies, but good children's movies. Really good ones.

“What do you guys want to watch?” He asks, and is answered with shaking heads.

“It is your birthday, Drake. It only makes sense for you to choose the movie.” Damian says, in a tone that might actually be interpreted as friendly. Which means that Dick took him aside to make him play nice for tonight. Which... is really nice of Dick.

Steph is still holding the dvd's in Tim's face, so he jut points at one without looking. They're all good choices anyway, and he won't have too think too much.

“The Incredibles. Nice!” Dick says, sounding excited. Tim knows for a fact that Dick has seen the movie at least ten times already, but it is a good movie. And knowing Dick, he might just be excited that they're all in one room, agreeing to watch a movie together.

“There'll be presents tomorrow, when Kate and Selina can be there too.” Jason tells him, and Tim wonders what more his siblings have planned. Then he thinks over Jason's statement again.

“I have meetings tomorrow. Like, a lot of meetings.” He says, slightly regretfully. Work is important, and he likes his work, but if his siblings already put this much effort in organizing a nice birthday for him, he thinks he should appreciate that.

“No you don't.” Steph snorts. “We called your office, and your nice secretary cancelled all your appointments. She absolutely agreed with us when we said that you need a a day off. In fact, she made us promise to make you sleep for at least six hours.”

That... does sound like something Janice would say. Tim's secretary is a very nice woman, a single mother of two, and she's always worried about Tim. It's nice, but also sometimes kind of unhelpful, because he can't exactly tell her that he's too busy with top secret vigilante activities instead of sleeping.

“Are we going to start the movie or what?” Jason asks, sitting down on the couch next to Tim and reaching for the chocolate. Cass sits down in the limited space right between them, putting her head on Tim's shoulder and her feet in Jason's lap. Neither of them complains.

Damian and Steph fight over a spot for a moment, before Dick rolls his eyes and sits down on the contested spot. Steph finds herself at Tim's side, and Damian sits down on the floor in front of Dick.

Tim looks at them all, sitting together, peacefully spending time together, not going on patrol just because it's his birthday and they want to do something nice for him. It feels... wonderful, in ways he can't even properly put in words. It feels safe, too. He dozes of before Mr. Incredible's first mission.

Some time later, he wakes up. At first, he's not sure what woke him, He did not have a nightmare or anything like that, probably because his siblings are still there, sleeping on their places on the couch. At some point, Damian has moved from the floor onto Dick's lap, but everyone else is exactly where they were before Tim fell asleep.

The movie is over, too, and some of the finger food has been eaten, but nobody touched the cake. It takes Tim a moment to realize that they're waiting for him to start eating it. That's... kind of really nice of them. He smiles.

Then he hears someone entering the room. He wants to jump up, but a warm, firm hand on his shoulder stops him.

“It's just me.” Bruce whispers, running his hand through Tim's hair. “Happy Birthday.”

For a moment, Tim can't breathe, because having his siblings organize a little something for his birthday is awesome enough, but Bruce actually showing up... that's... his parents never showed up for his birthday. They never acknowledged it, not really. But now he has siblings who plan for his birthday, and Bruce who must have cut patrol short to come.

Which is all kinds of amazing, and Tim feels like he should acknowledge that more than he does, but his eyes are falling shut again.. Apparently he is really that tired.

“Sleep, Tim.” Bruce whisper, kissing him on the forehead. “I'll still be there in the morning. We'll have the entire day, just the family.”

Tim believes him. He falls asleep with a smile on his lips.

[thelittleredheadedmusician]

This School Is So Weird

So @super-batgirl has encouraged me to write more about my Titans Academy  AU and I finally did! It’s a fun AU that I hope to keep coming back to. You can also fin it here on my ao3. Note about the science used:  Also, unlike Wally I'm not a science person at all, this whole thing is based off of those indoor sky diving places but I'm pretty positive you can't actually turn a wind tunnel into one of those unless the fan is one the floor and tbh even then I'm not sure. So since these are comic book characters let's just say this works cause of comic book science even though this is a No Capes AU. Rating: G Words: 1,412  Gen

Cassie was heading back to her dorm when she got cornered by her sister. “Come with me! You’re not gonna want to miss this!” Donna said, grabbing Cassie and pulling her back towards the mountain.

“Uh… What?” Cassie asked as she stumbled after Donna.

“Shhh. Just trust me,” Donna grinned. They wove through the halls and down into the depths of the mountain turned school. Cassie recognized some of the science labs meant for the more advanced classes but they never went into to any of them. Finally, they turned down a hall that dead ended at a heavy steel door covered in warning signs. Cassie froze and gave Donna her best not gonna happen look, the one that normally got her out of doing Donna’s chores. “I promise this is going to be worth it,” Donna said with a smile before turning and knocking on the door.

It swung open to reveal Donna’s friend Kori, her hair long red hair was piled into a bun on top of her head and her green eyes sparkled as she smiled. “You made it! Excellent! Come in, hurry,” Kori waved them through the door and pressed a hair tie into each of their hands.

Cassie looked at it in confusion before turning her gaze to Donna and Kori, both of whom were already walking deeper into the room. Donna was twisting her dark hair up into a bun of her own when she glanced over her shoulder at Cassie. “Well don’t stand there looking like a dead fish! C’mon!” Donna giggled.

Reluctantly Cassie skipped after the older girls and pulled her own hair up into a bun. “Where is Dick? He has been dying to try this for ages,” Kori asked.

“He’s gonna hate us but he’s at practice and I am not waiting on this,” Donna shrugged.

Cassie’s eyes adjusted to the room, the only light was coming through a window that looked into a huge chamber. It spilled across what looked like control panels straight from NASA. A desk just covered in dials and switches and buttons and screens. Two boys sat in front of it and the one chuckled before speaking. “C’mon Kori? How else do you think Babs and I managed to finally crack it? She’s been home sick all day and her dad is working on some big case, otherwise this would’ve taken at least another month between our schedules.”

“I know Vic, but still,” Kori frowned. That’s when Cassie recognized the boys, Donna’s friends Vic and Wally.

Donna rolled her eyes. “He’ll get over it. Anyway, think of this as a test flight.” She gave them a wicked grin and Cassie immediately became ten times more suspicious of her sister.

“Well the calculations are all sound. Babs cracked the override codes this afternoon and Vic and I have been running the math and double checking with her ever since. We’ve definitely got it,” Wally beamed, brushing the red hair that had fallen into his face as he spoke. “It’s pretty much now or never guys.”

“I’m in. Kori?”

“Oh most certainly.”

Donna turned to Cassie then. “You in?”

“What are you all talking about?! You grabbed me after fencing and just- I dunno- sisternapped me!” She threw her arms out, nearly smacking Wally in the process as she stared Donna down.

“You didn’t tell her?” Vic sounded incredulous.

Donna shrugged, having the good sense to at least look slightly guilty. “I wanted to surprise. I admit, not my best call.”

Wally snorted and Kori just shook her head. “I am so thankful my siblings chose not to attend school with me. Between you two and the trouble Dick and Jason and the others make…”

“Ok, I get it. Making it up to her,” Donna held her hands up in a placating gesture to her friends before turning to Cassie. “So this is a wind tunnel, it’s used by some of the physics classes to test aerodynamics. There was a rumor our freshman year that some of the seniors managed to turn it into one of those indoor skydiving things and Dick got super curious,” she chuckled at the memory.

“He used to be an acrobat and has always dreamt of flying, like really flying, so he latched onto it. Us being the supportive friends we are we started looking into it. Turns out just getting into this place is like hacking Fort Knox, not to mention the physics involved to get some of us safely airborne.

“Anyway, as of today all the pieces fell together so I thought you’d like to try it with us,” she smiled as Cassie blinked. Behind Donna the others gave her looks of encouragement.

Cassie pushed out a sigh in a huff. “That… I really wanna call bull on this but like I’ve been hanging out with Steph and Kara too much and you all by association to doubt it. Ok. What the heck. It’s not every day you get to play Peter Pan.”

Donna positively beamed at her while Kori gave an enthusiastic clap of her hands. “Sweet! I’m going to swipe some jumpsuits and goggles from one of the chem labs. Back in a flash!” Wally called as he ran off.

“This at least explains the hair tie,” Cassie tried with a smile.

Donna smiled and gave her a quick hug before walking towards the control panel. She and Vic began talking over the physics as Cassie drifted towards the window looking into the wind tunnel.

“I am very glad that you have decided to join in on our little experiment,” Kori said. Cassie glanced over at where Kori stood beside her. The other girl gave her a warm smile that Cassie returned.

“Alright! Got ‘em!” Wally said as he skidded back into the room, supplies in hand.

“Alright, let’s suit up!” Donna said, grabbing one of the jumpsuits Wally had and passing it to Kori. The three girls pulled them on over her clothes and slipping the goggles on.

They got to the door before Vic stopped them. “Ok, so I’m going to start it slow and begin amping it up. You three need to hold onto each other the whole time or else there won’t be enough air resistance and you’ll go… well you’ll go splat.”

“That’s… I really didn’t need to know that,” Cassie could feel the blood drain from her face.

“Don’t worry about it. Babs and Vic are never wrong with this sort of thing. Plus I helped and I’m a genius,” Wally reassured her.

“And so very modest. Who was it who helped you with your history homework all last year?” Donna giggled.

“Lookit, I’m a science guy ok?” Wally sounded wounded and yet he was still smiling. So Cassie figured he wasn’t too upset with Donna.

“Do not worry Cassie, it will be wonderful,” Kori smiled.

Cassie took a deep breath before nodding, grabbing Donna’s hand who in turned grabbed Kori’s as they opened the door and stepped into the wind tunnel together. Wally latched the door behind them and Donna gave Vic the thumbs up as he turned on the fan.

It began as a light breeze, barely lifting the hair that had come loose from Cassie’s bun. Soon, it was growing increasingly stronger and Cassie was having trouble keeping her footing. “Hold on tight! Any second now!” Donna yelled over the roar. Cassie squeezed Donna’s hand as her feet slipped out from under her. Suddenly she was weightless. Cassie laughed, she was flying. Her sister and her friends had actually made it work.

As Vic turned down the fan the three girls struggled to get their footing and ended up in a small heap on the floor of the wind tunnel, Wally and Vic rushing in to help them to their feet.

“That. Was. Awesome!” Cassie laughed. “Next time can I bring Steph and Kara?”

“Oh for sure. I’m guessing once Babs gets better and Dick hears about this the Wayne gang is all going to want to try it,” Donna said, slightly breathless.

“Most definitely. As will Raven and Garfield and all of the others,” Kori’s eyes glittered.

“Good thing Babs and I already hacked the security feed so the none of the administrators find out about this,” Vic told them, seeming rather proud of himself. “And now we know it works we can do this anytime we want.”

“This school is awesome,” Cassie whispered. “But also very weird. Definitely weird.”

[holy-fate-worse-than-death]

Red has a new chapter!

Chapter 12.5 is up :)

This fic is such a slow-burn and wow I’m sorry (but also I’m not even a little sorry)

Read the whole thing here

Preview under the cut>>

Archie Goodwin International Airport was located barely a ten-minute drive south of Wayne Manor, just across Mooney Bridge on the western mainland.

Before any other international mission, Tim would have stayed the night at the Manor and had Alfred drive him to the private airstrip Wayne Enterprises kept for their small fleet of private jets. When he’d suggested that to Arsenal, however, the redheaded archer had shifted uncomfortably from foot-to-foot and avoided looking Tim in the eye.

So instead they’d stayed the night in The Penthouse; a chic, minimalist suite on the top floor of Wayne Tower, complete with a view of the Atlantic, three bedrooms, two bathrooms and, of course, a private lift to an underground garage and bunker. Arsenal had let out a low whistle when they’d entered via said bunker, making no effort to hide how desperately he wanted to snoop around.

“B’s not here tonight,” Tim had said, his voice echoing off the concrete walls.

He swept across the long, narrow space, past several iterations of batmobiles and batcycles, and into the modest locker room. The space wasn’t anywhere near as sprawling as the Batcave or any of the League’s various hideouts, but Tim didn’t get the sense that Arsenal had spent much time in any of those.

Tim stripped out of his suit quickly and efficiently, undoing latches on armour panels and clasps on Kevlar with nimble, practiced hands. Part of Batman’s rigorous training had been timing how long it took to do a full costume change – from civilian attire to the vigilante get-up – and Tim had always joked about how it made him feel like an actor in a college stage production.

Arsenal undressed himself more lazily, though they finished at about the same time because the archer’s costume was simpler. He didn’t seem to have any hidden catches or booby-traps, no extra layer of non-conductive insulation under his Kevlar, or reinforced titanium panel over his heart. Hell, the redhead’s costume didn’t even have sleeves.

Not that Tim was complaining. There was definitely something charming about the faded stick-n-poke tattoos on his fellow ex-sidekick’s shoulders. The green one that said ‘POISON’ in sloppy, uneven letters, accompanied by a scorpion and an octopus with a skull for a head, drew Tim’s eye. Before he could consider his words, he found himself asking about it.

“What’s it mean?”

Arsenal hummed at him, raising one eyebrow as he threw a loose white t-shirt over his head that had been in the duffel he’d brought with him. Tim nodded at his shoulder as it disappeared under the fabric, and a hint of a smile tugged the corner of Arsenal’s mouth.

“I guess I thought it looked cool at the time,” he said with a shrug.

“You don’t think that anymore?” Tim pressed, hopping up and down a little as he struggled into a pair of too-tight skinny jeans.

They were fine around the waist once they got up there, but all the acrobatics he engaged in as Red Robin meant his thighs were disproportionately wide compared to the rest of his body. He’d lamented with Dick a hundred times about the issue as they changed in the locker rooms of the Batcave; apparently it was just a Robin thing.

Arsenal shrugged again, diverting his eyes. Tim couldn’t pinpoint the source of the behaviour; was it some sense of modesty because he felt uncomfortable watching Tim squeeze into his jeans, or was the topic uncomfortable? Tim was about to test the waters a little further, trying to decide the best tactic, when Arsenal continued.

“I don’t remember getting them,” the archer admitted.

“You don’t?” Tim asked immediately, almost stammering over the words as he imagined plucking them out of the air and shoving them guiltily back into his mouth.

Arsenal flinched, now shoving his feet into a pair of beat-up high-top Vans (red, of course).

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-” Tim began hurriedly.

“Forget about it, kid,” Roy snapped, suddenly sounding so much like Jason Todd.

He followed that with a great heaving sigh as he slung his duffel bag over his shoulder. The sigh certainly wasn’t because of the bag’s weight.

Tim averted his gaze and braced himself to brush past Arsenal. The narrow space between the lockers meant that they could barely stand shoulder-to-shoulder in the room, and Tim didn’t feel much like asking Arsenal to move out of his way. He knew if he did he’d sound rude, and they were going to be stuck with each other for the next half a week at least. Instead, he steeled himself and shuffled past the taller man, trying to make himself as small as possible.

Tim thought Arsenal might have got the hint, but the redhead just stood there, forcing contact. Their forearms brushed, and Tim immediately felt all the hairs there stand up.

Tim hurriedly exited the room, Arsenal hot on his heels, and made a beeline for the elevator at the end of the bunker. They passed another batmobile – this one an as-yet unused prototype that Tim had been tooling around with whenever he stayed at The Penthouse. A more and more frequent occurrence, Tim thought. Not long after he’d ended things with Stephanie he’d realised just how much he’d come to rely on crashing at her apartment whenever he was in the city. Now instead of having a drawer in her bedroom dresser, he had a cupboard in one of The Penthouse’s guest rooms.

A faint ghost of regret wisped through his stomach, but it was gone as soon as it had come. It had been almost six months now since he and Steph had gone their separate ways, and his only real regret was that he still didn’t feel like he could reach out and repair their friendship yet; she wasn’t ready, and maybe he wasn’t either. Still, they ran into each other every once in a while, and sometimes one of them would make a joke that activated some nostalgia reflex deep in their brains, and they’d laugh together or exchange a knowing smile. Those moments faded just as soon as they came too, but Tim quietly hoped that pleasant familiarity would be the norm for them again one day.

He caught himself smiling at the thought, and reflexively stared down at his feet as though that would conceal his expression from Arsenal. The elevator had ascended halfway up the tower now, and there wasn’t much room to hide in the tiny metal box. He dug his hands into back pockets of his jeans because, truth be told, they didn’t fit in the front pockets.

Arsenal’s eyes followed Tim’s hands and he smirked as he asked, “What’ya thinkin’ about, Tee-bird?”

Tim, now in better spirits, found himself smiling wryly at the pet name. It wasn’t one of the many that Jason had given him over the years, so he figured Arsenal must have come up with it himself. He bit back the urge to make a snarky comment about the redhead’s originality, and instead just shook his head.

“Nothing important,” he muttered, as the elevator slowed to a perfectly smooth stop.

Arsenal didn’t bother to hide the way his jaw dropped open as they entered the open-plan living area of The Penthouse.

Directly opposite them, the far wall was made entirely of floor-to-ceiling glass panels, a few of which gave way to a small balcony and jacuzzi. Between them and the glass, though, was a wide-open living room. An enormous slate-grey rug made everything feel somehow warmer, despite all the furniture being either black leather or brushed steel. The couches all pointed towards the western wall, currently on their right, where an enormous home-cinema-size television took up the entire wall.

In the eastern corner, to their left, a generous kitchen with sleek, mostly untouched appliances and marble countertops hummed and sparkled. That was what Tim padded towards. He hadn’t bothered with shoes when he was downstairs because he was only going to take them off once he got up here anyway, and the kitchen’s polished tile floor was cool on the soles of his feet.

“No chandelier?” Arsenal called incredulously from behind him.

Though Tim knew the archer was joking, Tim had actually asked the same thing when Bruce had remodelled the place a few years ago. This isn’t the Manor, Bruce had said.

“This is where billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne brings his dates,” Tim called back with a laugh, repeating what Bruce had told him that day, “Not where he brings members of Gotham’s high society.”

Arsenal had just nodded, taking a seat at one of the bar stools on the outside of the kitchen’s large marble island. Tim was on the other side of it, hunting around in the fridge. Honestly, he wasn’t sure what to offer Arsenal, since he didn’t seem like a wine or scotch guy – and that was in the liquor cabinet anyway, not the fridge – and he also didn’t seem like a tea guy.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked pleasantly instead, orchestrating a cover story in his head for why the fridge was mostly stocked with apple juice and soda.

He was just deciding he’d say it was for Damian – or maybe Dick – when he heard Arsenal clear his throat.

“I don’t drink,” the archer stated firmly.

There was an edge in his voice, so Tim turned around. Sure enough, Arsenal’s hands were clenched into fists on the bench and his bright green eyes were looking anywhere but at Tim.

It occurred to him that this was the first time he’d ever really looked at Arsenal without his mask on. His eyes were the most terrifyingly bright shade of green Tim had ever seen, and everything from his orange hair to his crisp white shirt seemed to accentuate how pale he was. Under the bright downlights of the kitchen, Tim could see the generous dusting of freckles over his nose that extended out over his cheeks, as well as the tiny little whiskers on his chin that told him the guy probably wasn’t capable of growing more than a five o’clock shadow. Tim was the same, though Arsenal had a few years on him.

Tim wasn’t sure if what he said next was an attempt to lighten the mood or to try and bond with Arsenal, but he said it all the same.

“Good thing I’m the kid,” he said, emphasising the word Arsenal had called him earlier, “who has a fridge full of juice boxes and Red Bull then.”

He punctuated his attempt at humour by swinging the refrigerator door open dramatically to showcase the aforementioned contents.

Arsenal huffed out a laugh in response and asked Tim to chuck him a soda. Tim obliged, grabbing one for himself as well and setting them both down on the counter. He cracked his own with one hand and opened the drawer beside his hip with the other, retrieving a handful of takeout menus. He splayed them out across the counter in front of the archer.

“You’re the guest, Arsenal,” he said.

Arsenal rolled his eyes.

“It’s Roy,” he said.

**

Once again, you can read the whole fic here