#especially if he is anywhere near Tim

[tallochar]

@zahri-melitor 's very excellent and exquisitely on point tags.

Tim and JPV could absolutely bond about computers.

A helpfull step by step guid on how to turn your EtC jason & tim fics into Etc Jean-Paul Valley & tim fics

for people who have never read a comic <3

i made a power point

[leth-writes]

yandere batfam and trying to fight them

BRUCE

Bruce just can’t see you as a threat; you just don’t register to him. As a result, he won’t be able to take your frustration seriously. He almost views it like a puppy play-fighting, testing boundaries with their parent and trying to learn how to use their body.

As a result, he does draw out your little fight quite a while; he sees it as enrichment. It’s good for you to have exercise after all, and this way he knows you won’t get hurt!

After a while you can really tell that he’s exaggerating his injuries; you lightly punch him and he goes down. It doesn’t make any sense for Batman to be so sensitive… You realize he’s just playing with you, and the humiliation almost kills you

He loves your little bonding session. He’s joking around, smiling and laughing, and you’re seriously trying to maim him. It’s like you’re a little kitten trying to attack a lion; it’s not going to work.

Eventually he does realize you’re trying to defeat him, and then just starts immediately pinning you. You’re sweating heavily on the ground and he’s not even breathing heavily, just smiling down at you with that fond little expression. It’s infuriating.

DICK

Oh my god he is so fucking annoying about this.

Another one who doesn’t realize at first you’re trying to escape. Honestly, he probably never realizes, he’s just happy you’re showing interest in something so important to him!

He’s quite fast and has really powerful acrobatic moves, he’s twisting and running circles aorund you, and you’re laying on the mat, sweat pouring off you in buckets.

It’s definitely irritating, especially because he loves gloating. He sees it as a way to preen, he wants you to be impressed by him, and you see it as him making fun of you for not being able to escape.

Eventually starts teaching you how to actually fight. You’ll learn to box, but you’ll never be anywhere near his level. Eventually you give up on escaping and learn to use it to take your anger out on him. It’s the only time you’ll be allowed to punch him, even if it doesn’t seem to even register.

It’s embarassing to not even be considered a threat, but hey, at least you didn’t get punished for misbehaving.

JASON

Jason realizes what’s happening pretty immediately, but it’s the first time you’ve tried to make contact with him… he’s allowing himself this bit of selfishness.

He loves seeing your determined little expressions, it makes him feel ecstatic that you’re thinking so deeply about him. He feels he’s occupying your thoughts nearly the same amount you occupy his, which makes him excited. All he wants is for you to be safe, but having you show some affection toward him would be a nice treat.

He spends a lot of time just adjusting your form and making sure you won’t hurt anything. He does spar with you, but he’s using it as a teaching experience and you’re going for the throat. You won’t get anywhere close, but hey, at least he gets to pin you to the floor and see that pretty flustered expression.

His fighting style is normally quick and brutal, so he does focus less on those flashy moves that make up 99% of Dick’s fighting style. As a result, you do actually get faster, though nowhere fast enough to get anywhere close to hitting him. You’ll never land a punch on anything but his forearms, and that’s because he’s letting you; the pit enhanced his fighting quite a bit.

TIM

Tim is the only one to really shut it down. He’s quite a good fighter, but he prefers using the bo staff, which he’d never use on you. Instead, he just gets Dick and Jason to teach you to fight. He’s not interested in sparring at all, he only practices fighting to hone his skills; he doesn’t really enjoy it.

He’d prefer to just cuddle, so he’ll definitely tie you to the bed and just lie next to you, running a hand down your back. If you want to touch him so bad, he’ll give you that.

Yes, he knows that isn’t what you want, no he doesn’t care.

Tim prioritizes your safety, yes, but he isn’t the most playful person around you. He doesn’t want to hurt you or give you a reason to be scared. He does utilize the fact that he’s not the most intimidating person in the world to get you to relax around him. He’s already got to fight against his frightening stare and the fact that you associate him with his ruthless practices as a businessman, he doesn’t want you thinking about him hurting you as well.

CASS

Cass is the most playful about it. Yes, she realizes what’s happening, no she doesn’t care.

She just wants to have fun, and this is the only opportunity she’s really gotten so far.

She’s not really focused on teaching you anything, it’s entirely play for her.

She’s gonna pin you pretty quickly, and she’s the one who uses the least amount of fancy moves. Even Bruce just modifies his normal fighting style to be less brutal, she completely acts like you’re a child trying to wrestle, focusing entirely on the kind of moves an older sibling would use if their younger sibling was being annoying.

Yes, she will sit on your legs to prevent you from moving.

If you actually try to really hurt you, she’s just gonna sit on your legs. She isn’t entertaining any sort of actual harm, it should be light and playful. She’s so soft toward you that you eventually stop trying to hurt her; if she was so gentle with you even when you were going at her throat, you start to understand that she only wants to be around you. Thus begins the period of negotiation for more privileges.

The playfighting is actually a really good way to learn to read Cass. You learn to tell the difference between that playful fake anger, and that real ice cold determination to stop you from doing harm. it’s a great way to bond.

[hana-no-seiiki]

BROKEN EXPECTATIONS, NEW ASPIRATIONS (I/III)

⟣��─ ˑ 𝐈. ✧ yandere! batfam + dc heroes x yandere! alien! reader (ft. ocs of mine, and other dc characters)

synopsis: you weren’t as innocent and benevolent as they thought you were, but that just makes things all the more exciting

tw/cw: dddne, reader is yan (platonic for this part, romantic for future parts(diff people). yandere themes, general violence, torture, sadist reader, incest (one-sided/not reader n it’s a brief mention so it’s not a main part of the story oh god-). reader is half based on jingliu/jingyuan from honkai star rail + laezel from bg3 worldbuilding. and there’s also a bit of malenia/miquella inspirations. reader has a background. reader’s alieness is explored/talked about. op! reader. wish fulfillment.

in short this was an oc insert of mine that i reconfigured for you guys to read. not your thing? scroll past thenks.

[next]

YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN THE KINDEST, MOST LOVING PERSON THE BAT-FAMILY EVER KNEW. You were so gracious with your benevolence that each and every vigilante took it upon themselves to take care of you at all moments lest you fall into unsafe situations or the hands of people who would ruthlessly take advantage of you.

Eventually, they forgot the fact that you were the sibling of the notoriously violent DAYBREAK, a vigilante that could be easily called a villain or terrorist instead if it weren’t for his close affiliation and friendship with the old Teen Titans crew when he was younger. He helped once in a while, but only if it meant he had free rein to cause carnage.

“This is useless, they won’t fess up.” Jason grunted as he fumbled around with his weapons, all broken after the battle just moments prior. Aliens and their abilities always made him feel so small in the grand scheme of things, and especially when they completely obliterated his entire arsenal.

Tim groaned, his back ached from the amount of times he was flung away towards whatever wall or ally the enemy wanted him to go to. He was used to being man-handled and even enjoyed that once in a while, but not in that way. “Aren’t they one of your kind? Cant you like… I don’t know…”

Your brother huffed, a pout on his pretty features. Quite similar to yours. Yet, he doesn’t spare the rest a glance. His eyes were trained solely on a restraining spell he managed to conjure as a last ditch attempt to stop the fight before it got . . . irreversible. Usually he’d just disintegrate whatever or whoever even looked at him wrong but even this titan-like intruder was proving to be a pain in the ass. “I can’t believe you, doesn’t mean we’re the same kind or whatever that means that—“

“He’ll be lucky to be even considered as one of us, filthy —“ The massive form spoke. Its metal like body clanging as it struggled in the spell’s area of effect. A soldier from your home planet, not as well trained as your brother — but he was brimming with aetherial ardor. A sort of magic source your people used.

“Okay, that’s it.” [Brother’s Name] groaned, summoning the last piece of his strength to open up a terminal. “Hey mooncake, need ya to do something for me.”

“No, we aren’t letting [Y/N] anywhere near this one. They could get seriously hurt. We were barely even able to—“ Dick held him by the shoulder, only to get burned by your brother’s leaking ardorial energy.

“Relax. Besides I’m not in your team. I don’t have to follow orders from you.”

“Daybr—“ Rachel, her cape almost completely burnt and tattered opened her mouth to admonish him.

But the sound of your sweet voice (more like hoarse, and half awake) silenced them all, “What do you need help with this time?”

“[L/N] don’t listen, go back to sleep, beloved.” Damian moved in from behind, learning from Dick’s mistake and instead using his blade to warn [Brother’s Name].

But if anything, that made the man more excited to annoy the “demonspawn”.

“Oh, mooncake you can’t believe who I stumbled upon today! Smile for the camera why don’t you?”

[Brother’s Name] flipped the terminal to show your face.

“You’re . . . General [Y/—“

And then flipped it back, showing his injured body. “He hurt me real bad. Look.”

Your face does not move nor your voice waver,

“Come back to the base.”

“No.” Black Canary, Dinah, slammed her hands on the table. She couldn’t believe this. It was already bad that they allowed you to be involved in their line of work, now they were letting you come face to face with a being that almost wiped an entire team of experience fighters? What were they thinking?

“That . . . thing is dangerous. We cannot allow this to continue!” Arthur concurred. He saw the state of your brother. A civilian like you had no business with something so dangerous.

“Unfortunately I have to say no to your refusal as well.” You calmly responded, “This situation is under the jurisdiction of the Fleet. It is only right that Daybreak and I deal with it.”

“Father you can’t possibly allow them.” Damian gripped your shoulder as he pleaded with Bruce. He had known you the longest next to Tim. You were barely able to hold your own as a normal student. Not that he was looking down on you, but if you couldn’t even fight for yourself in conversation, how could he let you be around that monster?

Bruce closed his eyes in deep contemplation. He studied your kind comprehensively. He did so for every vigilante and villain alike (Contingencies were his specialty) From how your magic system worked, to how society and customs were like. A lot of his knowledge came from Clark, who had also done his fair share of investigative work into your background.

He of all people in this line of work knew how dangerous you and [Brother’s Name] can be. He had done his calculations based off of what Daybreak could do. But curiosity drove him further.

“Fine.”

“Father!”

“But the whole league will be watching you, alongside the Young Justice and Teen Titans.”

“Sheesh, overkill much?” Daybreak, now plain [Brother’s Name] in a bunch of casts, piped up.

You nodded, quite honestly just aching to get out from this stuffy room already. “That is fine.”

Before you left, you head swiveled to take one last look at your sibling, building up whatever emotions you needed to see the job through, “Get some rest, brother.”

“Are you kidding? I gotta watch this.” Your brother laughed in earnest, almost-too-wholesome-for-him manner. You managed to understand why as his eyes scanned the people in the room.

He wanted to see them react to your true nature.

Your form finally disappeared from his sight as his eyes finally settled on another image of you glued atop a folder. “What are those?” He pouts to gesture at the objects, too injured to move his limbs.

“Files on [Y/N] and the being.” Bruce answered, opening up the screens for the cameras to the interrogation room.

[Brother’s Name] knows you’d give him a sermon for using his powers while he was already banged up but he had no choice. His arms were too broken to open up the folder after all. “You guys work quick.” He commented as the papers levitated and flipped through itself.

His eyes scanned the typewritten document swiftly, smile growing by the moment, “Pffft — kind hearted soul? Who wrote this?”

“It was compiled by me, but our sources vary from vigilante to civilians.” Clark mumbled. As one of the only other aliens, and people who could feel aetherial arbor. He felt your presence, your anger leaking earlier. It was heavy, as if the world was suddenly placed upon his shoulders. Yet he felt no fear for his own safety, only yours.

The gigantic door before you slid open revealing the enemy the vigilantes struggled to subdue earlier.

The soldier stood upright, sensing your presence. The rumors were true it would seem. Many wouldn’t be able to spot it, a testament to whatever you did to conceal your prowess, but they immediately recognized the magnitude of your ardor practically oozing around you.

He was expecting your anger. He knew of your protective nature towards your brother.

“My apologies.” But you didn’t. Instead you began nursing their injuries, repairing their armor, and even initiating casual conversation. “It must have been a long journey. I can’t help but resent whoever sent you here.”

“Your Excellency! I came of my own volition.”

“Oh? But judging from your armor you must be one of the knights.”

“Yes, 512th Squadron of the Imperial Army.”

“Of course, my eldest brother’s . . . “ Your fought to keep your hands from clenching. A gentle smile on your features remained unshaken even by the sudden revelation.

“Y-yes, your Excellency. It took many jumps for me to get here on my own.”

“Alone? What did you wish to come here for?”

“I-I wished to meet you but those Earthlings wouldn’t let me.”

“Mm. And so you fought them. As is right for one of our kind.” You brought out a handkerchief and wiped down your hands after finishing the task at hand. Then you took a seat in front of them.

“You understand! Of course.”

“Actually I came here to bid you to return. The Emperor misses you dearly and wishes to see you.”

“Do you know why he does?”

“N-no?”

You looked down. Voice soft, relaxed shoulders, a solemn tone, and a tremble to add on top. “My brother. He wishes to have a child with me. To use my powers in the form of a future heir to the throne.”

“I am not quite ready to have a child yet.” Nor were you interested with being a babymaker for that tyrant. But that wasn’t an appropriate excuse in the grand scheme of things.

“I understand! Your Excellency is quite young and even then, you have saved countless of lives. You deserve only to do as wish and nothing less.” The soldier slammed the floor in front of it. “Besides, his Majesty had already taken so many concubines I’m sure an heir wouldn’t be needed anytime soon.”

You nodded. A moment or two of silence for your mind to recollect everything that has been said before you execute what you came here for in the first place. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “How incompetent must the new Imperial General be at the moment?”

“Pardon?”

“Information is the most valuable asset to any sort of battle. As a general I kept a tight leash on it. Lest it spilled and caused unnecessary ruckus.” My knights were drilled, put through fire and blood, wiped clean before they were thrown back into hell again. And most importantly they were taught to sew their mouth shut or die. You, you just spilled everything I needed to know the moment I showed that I cared.”

“Your Excellency, I —“

“I was only going to punish you for trespassing. A measly act of destroying your Aetherial Helix.” “But in all honesty, I might be doing that brother Emperor of mine a favor by going . . . further.”

“N-no, you wouldn’t, you’re—!” The soldier was about to defend you even in its dying moments. But as it truly recounted all that has been told about you from its peers and seniors, it realizes one truly fatal fact.

You were never known for benevolence.

“Please! I did this all for you! I only wanted you back as my General!”

“Let this be a lesson.”

“No, please ! I- I - I beg of you—“

You looked up to the ceiling, beyond it — the stars and the infinite darkness you once called your home.

“And so I’ll continue to wield your blade, until I cut the stars from sky. I will protect you even from the gods I serve.”

You chant. The blood on your hands once again becoming too visible and distracting.

“Thank you for your service, soldier.” You deeply bow your head to the disintegrating corpse beneath you. Allowing the fallen's drained life essence to cover your forehead. [Brother Name] smiles. To others it may seem to have been a sign of respect — but to your kind, you were simply absorbing the spoils of battle. Taking in the dead and disgraced's remaining imprint on this world.

“My deepest apologies for the mess and time it took. The matter has been dealt with.” You returned. The blood, having dripped down your face, had dried and turned dark.

“I hope this has not soured your view on me.”

“Not at all . . .” Tim was the first to speak at your return. His fingers unconsciously replaying the footage of your . . . execution. Millions of questions already shot across his head as he was eager to probe you on them one way or another.

If anything it only made their obsession with you worse.

“Let me be your sinner, brother. This oath I shall never forsake.”

[spacedace]

Damian doesn't know who Santa Claus is and Danny tries to gaslight him into believing in Santa

Okay but, like, wouldn't even be gaslighting! Santa canonically does exist in the DC universe, I think I remember reading something about him fighting through an army in hell to give Darkseid a single piece of coal once?

So like, Danny doesn't have to gaslight Damian into believing Santa's real, he just has to pull out the proof (Danny has a binder of everything he knows about the Spirit of Christmas for the purpose of when he eventually goes to war with him, Danny hates Christmas so fucking much haha) and show him evidence that Santa is real.

Probably ranting the entire time about how much he hates the guy & Christmas and it's obvious that this is Danny's arch nemesis. His one true villain above all others. Pariah Dark? A nuisance. Dark Dan? Just a tuesday. Santa? That motherfucker is the bane of Danny's existence and he will pay for what he's done (spread Christmas cheer).

And Danny's the newest member to the family. Damian's been encouraged to get to know his new brother and try and bond with him a bit, make him feel like part of the family. So, obviously, the best way to do that is to help Danny in his quest for vengeance.

And of course Tim & Jason end of getting roped in on this. Damian's grown since he's first came to live with his father. He still is a little brat to his older brothers - he's the baby of the family it's his right - but he doesn't actively hate them anymore and can admit when their particular skills would be useful. Tim is the best at strategizing, and Jason is a combat master with access to all sorts of weapons. With all of them working together Santa has no chance, they will destroy him.

Which all just makes me think of something like this happening lol:

“What…uh, what are they doing?” Duke glanced between the chaos unfolding in the family room to where Dick was calmly seated in his favorite chair, sipping idly at a cup of coffee.

“Sibling bonding.” Dick said. There was that specific aura of calm around him that said that he’d already gone through several crisis and all the stages of grief at least twice. Considering the calamity and chaos the eldest batkid had seen over the years - and especially the last few months since Bruce officially adopted Danny and brought him into the fold - it was a bad sign that he’d reached this particular state of Done (TM) before noon. The earliest Dick even woke up was two in the afternoon.

Duke contemplated turning around right then and there - the particular combination of people all excitedly feeding off each other’s feral energy on the other side of the room was a catastrophe in the making he didn’t want to be anywhere near when it finally breached containment and spilled out into the wider world - but unfortunately he was cursed with the curiosity that afflicted all members of the bat clan.

“It looks like they’re plotting to try and kill Santa Claus.”

Dick turned to look at Duke fully for the first time since he’d entered the room. He had the eyes of one that was deeply haunted by the horrors they had witnessed. On the other side of the room Tim was ranting about anti-magic tech while Danny, Damian and Jason argued over what weapons would be most effective against a demi god. There were schematics of what looked worryingly like a rocket launcher looking device that - if the scribbles on the whiteboard someone had drug into the room where to be believed - was going to be rigged to shoot ecto-grenades.

“Danny hates Christmas.” Dick said, and Duke noticed for the first time that his hands around the coffee cup were faintly trembling. “He’s declared Santa is his arch nemesis.”

Duke blinked, glancing over to the others long enough to see Danny start frantically scribbling the words Christmas Nuke on the whiteboard. No one else was trying to erase it. Tim looked worriedly contemplative. Damian and Jason where both nodding in agreement.

He was going to regret this. “But Santa isn’t real?”

Dick’s eyes gained a faintly manic glean, and Duke could faintly hear the sound of porcelain creaking warningly beneath the desperate hold he had on his coffee cup. “That’s what I thought!” Dick said, with enough cheer to make Duke flinch back instinctively. “But apparently he is.” A distinct crack appeared in the cup, coffee dripping down into Dick’s lap. “And apparently they’re going to war with him!”

Well, Duke considered, at least that explained why he caught the four of them burning down the giant Christmas tree in the city center last night.

[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

[suzukiblu]

Winner of the "🎧❓️" poll: "meow", which therefore means another round of "stray cat strut". (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Tim really doesn’t like pets, though, so even the likelihood of Damian being on his best behavior today isn’t making him feel any better about being stuck at this event right now. Or rather, he doesn’t like how a lot of people treat their pets, and at an event like this, there’s a whole lot of people around with both their own pets and other people’s, not to mention all the ones the rescue brought. 

Seriously, there’s just . . . so many pets here today. It’s bad enough when especially entitled socialites insist on bringing their pets everywhere, but for a pet-focused event, no one ever seems to leave them at home. Tim’s already seen half a dozen rabbits, at least twice as many birds, a matching pair of fennec foxes, one or two reptiles, and more dogs and cats than he could shake a bo staff at, all of which are rare and ridiculously expensive purebreds. 

The pets the actual rescue brought aren’t anywhere near that fancy, of course; they’re just here for the photo ops and sympathy points. Or just the appearance of “sympathy” points, maybe, given how many of the upper-class attendees and potential donors in attendance are people that Tim knows for a fact have the moral backbone of a chocolate eclair created with slave labor cacao, butter with uncertified palm oil, high-fructose corn syrup, and GMO wheat deliberately bred to be sterile all put together by a bunch of underpaid workers on unpaid overtime for a celebrity chef who hasn’t even seen the five-alarm health code violation of an industrial kitchen/production line they’re all working in. 

Not that Bernard has ever gone on any incredibly-detailed rants about the food industry around him or anything. 

Fuck, he misses Bernard. Why couldn’t he bring Bernard to this stupid event? What’s the point in having the world’s best fiancé when said best fiancé isn’t allowed to come to the stupid events with him just because of one incredibly brief two-hour explanation of why the mayor should be ritually sacrificed to Dionysus for breaking literally every single campaign promise he'd made to everyone below the one percent made to the mayor’s wife? She’d agreed with him, for crying out loud!

. . . alright, so her filing for divorce the next day had probably looked bad, publicly speaking. Like, in theory. 

Tim still thinks it’s bullshit he can’t bring Bernard to another event or gala for another two months. As ever, this situation would be much less annoying with Bernard in it.

[niphredil-14]

Hello Renza! I hope you are doing well. I was wondering if you could write something fluffy and cute about doing the batboy’s makeup. Just asking randomly but sweetly if you can do their makeup and having them lay down and relax while you do. Or maybe some joking around. Just happy vibes. No pressure! Thanks! ♥️♥️

~🫀🥼🎲📚

hope you dont mind hc format, but im tired and just wanted to get my thoughts out since this is a cute simple idea c:

Dick Grayson: - babes be serious - you're doing each other's make up - and unless you're some sort of makeup guru, he's probably better than you - i see him mostly doing show makeup since that's the kind he would have been exposed to first, and also it just matches his vibrant and over the top energy. - if it is you doing his makeup (and not the other way around) then i feel like it would be one of the only times that he can actually relax. - he is always trying to work, or help someone else, or take care of something. this poor man needs a nap, and so if he has to close his eyes while you do his eyeshadow, hes probably gonna just take a little snooze.

Jason Todd: - not as big of a fan, but can be bribed into it if you offer to help him fuck with Bruce, or agree to cover for him if he ever needs it. - you can also get him to do it by telling him how much better he is than dick (or tim, theyre both soft spots for him) and/or that THEY would let you do their makeup. - he does it very reluctantly and demands that you either do a very natural look, or you do a very hot, dark, and sexy look. -please don't put red lipstick on him. frankly he doesn't want any lipstick on him, but especially red -(this also goes especially for AK Jason. You're not doing his makeup regardless, but if by some miracle he let you do his eyeliner or mascara, he will not let you get lipstick anywhere near him. he's probably afraid of fuckin chapstick too @thesandsofelsweyr i thought you would like this) -(hc that joker put makeup on ak jay!!! as a form of humiliation and to keep him "on brand") - will wash it off as soon as it's done/you let him

Tim Drake: - doesn't want his makeup done,, but if he has to crossdress to go undercover again then he might let you. -if thats how you got him to let you, then you have to do very subtle makeup, just enough to make him look a bit more "feminine" -the other way would be to drug his coffe/energy drink and do his makeup while he's asleep. This way would probably be more fun and also give you more creative control.

Damian Al-Ghul Wayne: - very reluctant and will only agree to if he owes you a favor (he is honorable) - or (aged up version, of course) if you are his beloved, and the two of you are in private, and you are not permitted to take any photos. - I think he would be a big fan of glam looks, or of darker grungier looks. -he will take it off as soon as you're done (though he might take a moment to admire your artwork before wiping it off)

[zahri-melitor]

Thoughts on the different ways Tim and Dick relate to Bruce in self-isolation mode and Batman going off the rails. Because they BOTH have a lot of experience with both situations, but react differently to it.

It’s a reflection on the observation that Dick will walk out on Bruce when he’s in grimdark mode while Tim will cling closer to try and rein him in; while as soon as someone accuses Bruce of killing, Dick refuses to believe it but Tim will be like ‘we have to seriously consider the result if he did’.

Tl;dr they are the only two Robins/ex-Robins with such deep experience with this because they’re the only two who have been left on their own to deal with a Batman being criminally reckless. Jason’s period as Robin somehow never scored a go-around of Bruce going into self-hatred mode (possibly because the amount of stories written about Jason’s period of Robin is realistically under a year’s worth, I don’t care that some timelines suggest he might have been in the costume as much as 2.5 years, there isn’t anywhere near the material for that) and Damian has always, ALWAYS had Dick and/or Tim available to defuse and redirect Bruce, and they both have patented strategies to deal with this.

While Dick acted as a (largely unspecified) handbrake on Bruce up until the grand “You’re Fired!/I Quit!” contretemps, and then developed the far more personally protective strategy of just walking away and letting Bruce deal with it on his own, as they’re both adults and he should not be required to act as emotional regulation for a grown adult. There’s not a lot of ON PANEL discussion of this, between 99% of their period as Batman and Robin being pre-Crisis and the flashbacks we’ve had since then tending to revolve around a few set pieces. But there’s a reason that Bruce describes Dick as his greatest achievement and the most important part of him being Batman. Not disappointing Dick functioned as the brake up until Dick became an adult.

HOWEVER. The only reason Dick was able to get away with his brand new strategy is not that Bruce became better at regulating his own emotions (it is to laugh). Oh no. Alfred and then particularly Tim stepped in to pick up the slack, and pretty much have never stopped since then.

Tim became Robin specifically to stop Batman going off the rails. “Batman needs a Robin”. He saw the violence and he stepped in to find a way to stop it. And when Dick refused to help out, Tim took on the role of emotional regulation buddy and essentially never stopped.

Plus, if Tim did not think the position was important, Knightfall reinforced it in the worst possible way. The arc of Knightfall, for Tim: Bruce pushes Tim away and becomes more exhausted. Tim is assigned to teach JPV how to be a hero. Bruce, trying to do too much on his own, gets his back broken. Bruce assigns Tim to making sure JPV functions as Batman. (Dick turns up for 3 pages to complain that he did not get the mantle and Tim, dealing with Bruce being injured and on a quest, his dad being kidnapped, and the realisation that Azbats is going off the rails ON HIS ASSIGNED WATCH, doesn’t have time to do anything else but sigh and go ‘yeah you’d be better but Bruce set it up this way’). Azbats locks Tim out of the cave. Tim continues to Robin his way around the edges trying to clean up Azbats going off the rails. JPV kills a Rogue and leaves a victim to die. Bruce comes back, deals with Azbats, then disappears off again, giving the mantle to Dick this time. Tim and the rest of us get to experience Prodigal. Bruce comes back again and within no time at all Tim is flinging himself on top of Harvey Bullock to protect him during a shootout in Troika.

Tim came out of Knightfall CONVINCED that his most important job as Robin was to act as emotional regulator. Especially since Alfred quit at this point. “What does a Batman who kills look like” is not an academic question to Tim. It’s not even a “well I’ve seen other timelines” thing for him. Tim has literally been the assigned Robin to a Batman who ended up killing and the death occurred, in part, because Robin couldn’t hold him back.

It’s also notable to me that that one time Tim HAS tried Dick’s “let him deal with it himself” strategy, that was the run of ‘Tec and Batman between Officer Down and Bruce Wayne: Murderer. Alfred had quit again (and was living with Tim at Brentwood, while Bruce refused to go near Alfred). Tim was ignoring Bruce because he told Steph Tim’s identity. Bruce literally only had Sasha Bordeaux (and Steph for a bit) as assistance. And what happened? Bruce ended up accused of murder and was arguably off the rails enough that he COULD have done it, given how much he wasn’t talking to anyone.

Tim has never ever risked that again. He was only able to quit following his 16th birthday for a couple of days before he went straight back to Bruce, not even expecting an apology. Following War Games, War Games, when Tim’s so heartbroken and tired he has to leave Gotham and moves to Bludhaven, Tim is still talking to Bruce and seeing him regularly, because Bruce is all by himself in Gotham again and Tim knows that’s a recipe for him falling off the rails again.

This is part of what I think is at the heart of the debate between Dick and Tim over “growing up and out of being Robin and finding your own identity”. Dick is convinced that you can safely leave Bruce to his bullshit when he’s going off the rails, because Dick was able to walk out and it went fine (Bruce found himself Jason and was just fine…right up until Jason died, but they all got past that time! Bruce doesn’t need this level of coddling! You cannot find who you are apart from Bruce unless you give yourself that separation!), while when Tim tried, Bruce got accused of murder and decided he was going to abandon the whole identity of “Bruce Wayne” until he got his ass kicked by enough family members over how stupid he was being. Tim doesn’t think it’s safe. Tim’s seen Batman and seen Bruce ‘die’ too many times when he needed rescue.

Tim knows Alfred won’t always step up to the role. He’s quit twice and is now dead. Tim knows Dick refuses to act as an emotional regulator for Bruce anymore. Tim simply doesn’t TRUST anyone else with the role as they’ve never had to actively deal with it on their own, and being part of the bigger network is very different to being The One.

And I think this is part of why Tim cannot move himself on. He doesn’t trust Bruce to cope. Even if there are approximately a dozen other Bat folk around to step in if Bruce starts his self-isolation cycle again. Because too many of them historically have gone “well screw you too” when Bruce started the cycle, and the 13 year old kid who talked Batman down from being too violent with criminals, and the 14 year old kid who was left to control a Batman experiencing religious psychosis and got strangled in the process, and the 15 year old kid who hung off Nightwing’s arm to stop him punching the Joker one more time, who left Batman to his own devices only for him to be framed for murder and refuse to try and get out of it, and the 16 year old kid who realised if he quit and left Bruce would never speak to him again so he swallowed it down and reached out again and again and again even as he was hurting, in the worst year of his life, and the 17 year old kid who refused to believe Bruce could be dead and went to find him, damn the consequences to himself? That kid cannot walk away because he KNOWS THE PRICE and he knows what it costs to pay it and he doesn’t trust anyone else to do so.

(yes, Tim should be allowed to have an arc to move away from this dynamic. But I understand why he can’t, and DC will have to have someone ELSE take over the role or commit to writing ‘Batman goes off the rails’ plots where Bruce provides his OWN emotional regulation that pulls him back ahahahahahaha like that will occur)

[uncpanda]

Found Out

AN: The Law and Order SVU and Batman crossover no one, absolutely no one asked for, but I still wrote. Cause I can ;)

Warnings: Mentions of serial killers. Nothing graphic.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

For being some of the smartest, most intelligent, detectives in the world, the superheros in your life are fairly oblivious. And on some level you’re really thankful for that. It allows you the freedom to do your job without their henpecking. 

On the opposite side of the spectrum, the people you work with, your second family, are some of the kindest, most intelligent, and hardworking detectives you’ve ever met, but they’re also oblivious to the fact that you’re married to a billionaire. 

You had never really meant to keep the worlds separate. It had started off innocent enough, you’d joined NYPD as a beat cop while Bruce was out studying to become the Bat. And when he got home you’d spent every spare minute helping him. Between that and the company he’d been too exhausted to ask anything other than a few questions about your job. He knew you worked for a large organization in NYC and that was it. He trusted you. And the boys were just as oblivious as their father. The only person who knew was Alfred. He’d been the once to come to your graduation from the academy while Bruce was still away. 

On the flip side, your SVU family knew very little about your home life. They knew you were married, they knew you had kids, but they didn’t know how many. After all, you’d only had the two pregnancies; Terry and Matt had both been big but welcome surprises. Then again ALL of your boys were surprises. And you had perfected your technique of avoiding the paparazzi for both SVU and Gotham High Society. 

Honestly, in your mind, there was no reason at all for your two worlds to meld. When you were at home, you took care of your family; when you were at work you tried really hard not to think of them, because despite crime fighting, you didn’t want them anywhere near these types of crimes. 

Of course, nothing lasts forever, but you figure twenty years is a good run, especially when Bruce is driving Dick away for his desire to be a cop. You watch them go back and forth for hours, before you finally step in. There are groans from the other boys about stopping the fight while Cass just grins, and you ignore all of them. 

“You’re going to stop this right now Bruce Wayne.” 

His eyes are hard, his jaw is set, “You don’t understand Y/N.” 

Out of the corner of your eye you watch Alfred roll his eyes in exasperation, “I understand better than anyone here.” 

His hands go to his hips, and you know he’s about to dig a very deep hole for himself, “Sweetheart, I love you, and I know you work the computers from time to time, but this is different. There are guns involved and he’d have to work inside the system.” 

“So?” 

“You can’t do both; there’s too much to hide.” 

You smile sweetly at him, “I don’t know, I’ve been doing both for the past twenty years. Then again, I suppose it might be different for me since I just worked the computers for a while.” 

He blinks at you, and you know he’s connecting the dots. You ignore him, and turn to your oldest, his eyes wide, “While I understand you wanting to do Bludhaven, if you want to do NYPD, we can drive into the city together. Let me know, I have more than a few favors I can call in.” 

Tim is the first to voice the statement, “You’re a cop?” 

You shrug, “First grade detective, but I’m taking the sergeants exam in a few weeks.” 

Jason stares at you, “Seriously? Are you joking right now?” 

“I joined when I was twenty. I’d finished college early thanks to AP classes, went in as a beat cop, and after five years I became a detective. I’ve been working at SVU for the past fifteen years. They’re like my family away from home.”  

You can tell there are more questions, but no one seems brave enough to ask them. You start to head out of the room, when Bruce asks, “Why did you hide it?” 

You pause and turn to him, “I didn’t. You just never asked.” 

As you leave you hear Alfred ask, “Would you like a shovel for the hole you’re digging sir, or should I just make up the couch for you?” 

You go  wait in your room, and lie down on the bed. A few minutes later Bruce comes in, and you look at each other. His brow is furrowed, eventually he asks, “Why didn’t you tell me? How could I not have known?” 

You smile at him, “I didn’t want you to know Bruce. I was on my own path, and I knew you would worry. At the start I told myself I would tell you eventually, but. . . you were so involved with Batman and you were doing so much good . . . I didn’t want to add to your stress. You were barely sleeping three hours a night at that point. 

“Then we Dick, and I considered telling you but he needed us to focus on him, and after a while it became easier to excuse it. It became my secret identity. Are you mad?” 

He lets out a laugh, “I dress up as a bat, and fight crime as a vigilante. I don’t think I can be mad. I think I’m worried.”

“About?” 

“Us drifting apart, not knowing you?” 

You shrug, “I’m me Bruce. I just also happen to be a cop. I see a lot of bad stuff, everyday. The last thing I want when I come home is to talk about it. Same as you guys. When I’m home I want to be happy, but if you want to know I’ll tell you on one condition.” 

He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, after a moment he asks, “What’s the condition?” 

“You can’t involve Batman. NYPD is not Gotham PD.” 

He nods after a minute. The two of you spend the night talking, you tell him about some close calls, you tell him about the one life you’d been forced to take, you tell him about your frustration. You tell him about Liv and Elliot, and how Elliot leaving crushed Liv, but she rose from the ashes to become a lieutenant. You tell him about Munch and Cragen, both of whom have retired. You tell him about Finn, Rollins, Amaro, Carisi, Dodds and Barba. It’s nearly six in the morning by the time you’re finished. 

“And that’s the majority of it.” 

You’re both lying on the bed staring at each other. Bruce has been largely silent, he’d skipped patrol, and only asked a few questions. A part of you wonders when his anger will hit; it doesn’t. Instead he says, “I am so freaking proud of you,” and then he kisses you. And you can’t help but think, that in a normal marriage, a normal family, this would have been a big deal, it would have broken them. In your family though? It’s another day. 

You call out of work that day to catch up on sleep and spend the day with your family. The boys come up with a bunch of reasons as to why they should have realized you were a cop. 

“You work really weird hours.” 

“You never wore heels to work.” 

“You never wore dresses either, come to think of it?” 

“Is this why we own a penthouse in NYC?” 

Jason is the one who asks, “Where do you keep your gun? I thought those weren’t allowed in the house?”

“You don’t need to worry about it. It’s locked up.” Logically, you know each of your boys knows how to use a gun, mainly for the purpose of knowing how to disarm someone holding a gun. You still don’t want them anywhere near it. For that reason, it’s kept in a DNA safe in Alfred’s room. 

When you go back to work the next day, you have your gun and badge on your hip. All of the men in your life focus on it. Bruce corners you in the kitchen as you’re pouring coffee into a travel mug and whispers, “You look sexy as hell with the badge.” 

You laugh, and then you kiss him. You’re the one who drops Cass, Tim, Damian, Terry, and Matt off at school. Jason is in college, and he drives himself. Dick is still contemplating his options. 

The fact that your family knows makes things a lot easier a few weeks later when Carl Rudnick and Greggory Yates escape from prison. You can hear the worry in Bruce’s voice, when he begs you to be safe and not do anything risky. You snort at that and he chuckles, “I know, I’m a hypocrite, but I’m your hypocrite.” You roll your eyes, because the big doofus, is in fact, yours. You also know he’s keeping a close watch on the man hunt. 

Three days later Rudnick is back in custody, but Yates is still on the run, back to Chicago you’re pretty sure. You’ve gotten maybe five hours of sleep total in those days? You’re exhausted, but you have reports to fill out, and Chief Dodds, the commissioner and a whole bunch of brass are hanging around. 

You’re in hour three of doing paperwork, when you hear whispers. Your eyes flicker up to find your husband smiling at  you from across the room. He’s holding a doggy bag full of food, he’s dressed in a suit that costs thousands of dollars, and you know that people recognize him. 

Finn leans forward, “What the hell is Bruce Wayne doing here?” 

You hear Carisi whisper, “Maybe he’s dating Leiu?” 

You can’t help it, you burst out laughing, because you sometimes forget it’s not common knowledge that Bruce is married, despite the ring on his finger. You avoid galas with the best of them after all. You call it the Batman tax; Bruce can fight crime and you don’t have to show up to stuffy dinner parties.  

Bruce smiles at the laughter, before approaching your desk, he settles into the chair next to your desk. “Really? No pictures of me or the kids?” 

You scoff, “Work stays at work, home stays at home.” 

He frowns, “I’m getting you pictures.” 

You don’t argue with him, “What are you doing here?” 

“I brought you food. Alfred and I figured you hadn’t eaten.” 

“I haven’t had anything outside of vending machine junk in days.” 

He scoffs, “What happened to taking care of ourselves?” 

You shrug, “I’ve been hunting serial killers.” 

His face goes serious, “But you’re okay?” 

“As okay as I can be. They got a few more people, our sergeant took a bullet to the shoulder, Rudnick is back in prison, but Yates is headed only God knows where.” 

His fingers twitch, and you know he’s itching to do something, but he can’t. He can’t get involved in this too. He has all of Gotham to worry about and thanks to the league, sometimes he has to worry about the world. 

He lets out a breath, “Can I join you while you eat?” 

“Yes. You can catch me up on the goings at home.” You lead him past your shocked colleagues, and a room full of shocked officials in Liv’s office and to the breakroom. While you eat, Bruce assures you that the boys are fine, but Damian apparently butchered the hedges again. Clark was apparently being a pain in his ass too. The man of steel wanted your family to come to Kansas for Thanksgiving. 

“I’ll probably have to work, use that as an excuse.” 

Bruce grins, “This job has perks.” 

You lean forward and peck his lips, “Lots of them.” 

When you’re finished you stand up to leave and there is a room watching the two of you. You sigh, and Bruce mutters, “It’s good to know the vultures remain consistent.” 

Chief Dodds is about to step forward and ask a question when you step towards Olivia, “Bruce this Liv. She’s saved my ass more than once over the years. Liv, this is my husband Bruce, remember I talked about him?” 

She grins, “Yes, but you failed to mention he was Bruce Wayne.” 

You feign nonchalance, “Did I? Hmmm.” 

Bruce smiles, it’s the one that has everyone jumping to meet his every need, the one that says he’s as innocent as a choir boy, and he would be your best friend if you let him. You smirk at him while he shakes Liv’s hand, “Thanks for watching her back. The boys and I appreciate it.” 

That’s when Finn steps forward, “That right, you guys have a huge family, right?” 

Bruce’s brow furrows in fake concentration, “We have Dick who is twenty, Jason is eighteen, Cass is Fifteen, Tim is fourteen, Damian is ten, Terry is six, and Matt is four.” He looks at you, “How’d I do?” 

“Perfect score.” 

“We have a full house, but it’s nice.” 

You nod, “Let me walk you out.” 

You make sure Bruce gets to his car, you kiss him, and promise you’ll be home by morning. Once he’s gone you head back up to find everyone waiting on you, it’s Finn who declares, “You have some explaining to do.” 

You sigh, life was easier when no one knew anything. 

[falcqns]

would it be enough (if i could never give you peace)

✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Tim Bradford x Lucy Chen x Tamara Colins

✰ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: everyone at Mid Wilshire knows that Tamara is Tim and Lucy’s daughter. There is only one person who isn’t aware of this, and that is Tamara. Until she gets hurt, that is. 

✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: crying, like lots of it. Car crash, near death experience, fluff, angst with a happy ending. tagging @natashasera

don’t forget to read and reblog, and i do not give permission for my works to be posted anywhere other than tumblr. thank you.

Tamara loved Tim and Lucy. Ever since they had busted her for stealing Lucy’s car, Tamara had felt safe with them. There were her warmth; the people who cared for, comforted, nurtured, supported and loved her, something she had never felt as a child. Right now, there was nothing Tamara was missing more than the warmth of Tim Bradford and Lucy Chen while she was upside down in her totalled car, hanging on for dear life, just before the world around her went black.

Lucy loved Tamara like her own. She had never had such strong maternal feelings for someone than she did Tamara. She rarely made her angry, she kept her space tidy, and rarely talked back, which had resulted in Lucy rarely feeling upset or frustrated with the teen. But right now, she was frustrated. Tamara was ignoring her messages. 

Tamara’s high school had called her; she wasn’t present for morning attendance. This isn’t what frustrated Lucy. What frustrated her was that Tamara was then also absent for 2nd period, and now 3rd. 

Lucy knew that Tamara was struggling with her birthday approaching. That meant that the teen would put even more pressure on herself to find a job and move out, which was something Lucy and Tim did not want. They wanted her to know that she was family, and that because she was family, she didn’t have to leave on her 18th birthday, but no matter what she or her boyfriend said to the teen, the words just weren’t getting through to her. And Lucy knew that having stress like that, especially self imposed stress like that wasn’t easy to deal with, but Tamara also knew better than to skip school. 

Lucy sighed heavily, looking down at the 5th unanswered text from her teen. She then shoved her phone in her pocket, and stepped out of the shop, walking towards the table between the food trucks that her and Tim always shared. She plopped down next to him, and didn’t greet him, instead she grabbed a few fries and shoved them in her mouth, hoping that she would feel less angry with some food in her system, but it didn’t work. 

“What’s going on?” Tim asked. Of course he knew something was wrong, Lucy thought to herself. 

“Tamara is skipping class.” She said simply, and Tim shrugged his shoulders. 

“She’s a teenager. Teenagers skip school. I did it, and I’m sure that you did too.” He said simply, taking a drink of his pop. 

Lucy rolled her eyes, turning to face Tim. “She also isn’t answering any of my texts. Something that she knows to do, even if it’s just an emoji. I know she has a lot on her mind right now, but that doesn’t mean she can ignore me.”

Tim sighed, reaching out, and wrapping his arm around her shoulder. “I know. I know you’re frustrated with her, and that’s okay, but there must be a logical explanation for her not answering. Maybe her phone is dead, or she forgot it at home. She’s not doing it deliberately okay?” Lucy nodded, and she opened her mouth to respond to Tim, but was cut off by Tim’s phone ringing. 

He lifted it from the table, and Lucy saw Angela’s name. Tim answered and held it up to his ear. 

“Hey.” He said, and Lucy could hear Angela’s voice on the other end, and it sounded concerned. Lucy’s brows furrowed, and she honed in her hearing, trying to pick up what was being said. Tim hung up a moment later, and once again Lucy opened her mouth to speak, but was once again, cut off. 

“We have to go back to the station.” Tim said, standing up, and tossing out his garbage from his lunch. 

“What’s going on?” Lucy asked, standing up immediately, and following him to her shop, tossing him the keys in the process. Tim opened his door, and made eye contact with Lucy.

“I don’t know, but judging by her tone, it can’t be anything good.”

——

As soon as they pulled up to the station, Angela pulled them inside and into an interrogation room. She sat them both down, and took a deep breath before sitting down across from them.

“What’s going on?” Lucy said, an edge of demanding to her tone. 

“Nolan and Juarez responded to an accident a few hours ago.” Angela started slowly. “By the time they arrived on scene, paramedics had gotten the driver out of the vehicle and were preparing to transport to the hospital. Nolan and Juarez took witness statements, and then followed the ambulance to the hospital.” Angela finished, her voice shaking ever so slightly.

Lucy and Tim looked at each other, confused. Why was Angela telling them this, and why did she seem to be on the verge of tears. 

Angela took a deep breath, gulping before she spoke again. 

“We were unaware of who the victim was until she was being prepped for surgery, and Nolan got a good look at her.”

“Who was it?” Tim asked, and Angela looked down before looking back at the couple. 

“It-uh, it was Tamara.”

Lucy felt her heart drop and shatter, and all of her frustration immediately disappear, tears pouring from her eyes with no warning. “N-No,” Lucy whimpered, and she felt Tim immediately wrap her up in his arms. “No, sh- she-“ She gasped, and Tim hugged her tighter, leaning in close. 

“It’s okay, baby.” He whispered, hugging her to her chest as she broke down. “I-is she okay?” He asked Angela shakily. 

Angela sniffed, wiped away a stray tear. “She’s in surgery, but last I heard she was stable. From Nolan’s once over of her, it appeared she only had a broken leg, but we won’t know the full extent of the damage until she’s out of surgery.” 

Tim nodded, finally breaking down, burying his face in Lucy’s hair. “She’s gonna be okay, baby.” Lucy sobbed harder. “C-Can we go see her?” He asked quietly, and Angela nodded immediately. 

“Of course. I’ll inform Grey.” She said, wiping her eyes as she stood up. Just before she shut the door behind her, she looked at Tim. “Keep me updated, okay? Doesn’t have to be much, just a quick text. Just so we know she’s okay?” 

Tim nodded. “Yeah, yeah of course.” 

Angela smiled, and shut the door behind her, and Tim held Lucy even tighter. “She’s strong.” He whispered. “She’s our strong girl. She’ll pull through, and she’s going to be okay.” He said, unsure if he was reassuring Lucy or himself more. Lucy pulled away from his chest, and Tim held her cheeks in his hands. 

“I c-can’t lose her,” Lucy whispered. “She’s my baby, I can’t,” 

Tim nodded, chin wobbling, a tear falling from his eye. “I know. But like her mom,” Lucy smiled at that. “She’s determined. She doesn’t give up. There is not a weak bone in her body. She’s going to get through this, and she’s going to be okay. Wanna know why?” He asked, and Lucy immediately nodded. 

“Because she has you for a mother.” Lucy smiled, more tears streaming from her eyes. “You’ve been to hell and back, and you are the perfect person to help her through this. She’s going to be okay.” He said, and Lucy nodded, taking a deep breath. 

“Don’t discredit yourself so much,” Lucy whispered. “You’ve done a lot for her too, you know.” She said quietly. “And you’ve been through a hell of your own, and you survived, which is why you are the perfect person to be her dad. You support her, comfort her, and love her like your own, and thats something she hasn’t had for so long, if at all. You’re right,” Lucy said, taking a deep breath. “She’s strong, and she’ll get through this, because she has us.” 

Tim nodded, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Can we go see her now, please?” Lucy asked, and Tim nodded with a smile. 

“Yeah, Goosey, we can.” 

——

By the time they had changed out and reached the hospital and had found the right ward, the doctor, who just so happened to be Grace, was just speaking to Nolan. They walked up to the pair, and Tim and Lucy immediately interjected. 

“How is she?”

“Is she okay?” 

Grace smiled, and turned away from John, who raised his hands, and stepped away. 

“Your daughter is very lucky. She had some internal bleeding, but it was an easy fix. She also has a broken ankle, but we’ve set it, and it should heal perfectly. She’s just being moved to recovery now, I’ll come and get you two when you can see her, okay?” Grace said, and Lucy nodded. 

“Thank you,” She said. “So much.” Grace smiled, touched her elbow briefly, before walking through the double doors behind her. 

Tim wrapped Lucy back up in his arms, holding her tight. He bent down, and began whispering in her ear. “I told you she’d pull through.” 

Lucy choked out a sob. “I was so scared.” Lucy expressed. “I thought I was going to lose her. I thought that I would never see her again, that I’d never hear her call me Mom, never tell her how much I love her, how important she is to me.” 

“I know, baby.” Tim whispered, rocking back and forth slightly. “I know. I was thinking the exact same thing, but know we’ll get a chance to tell her, and to show her how much we love her.”

Lucy looked up, a slight smile on her face. “You were thinking you’d never hear her call you Mom?” She asked playfully, and Tim glared at her, but with no real heat behind it. 

“You know what I meant, Boot.” He said, kissing her forehead. 

“Not your boot anymore,” 

“Maybe on paper, but in my heart you’ll always be my little Boot.” 

Lucy slapped him across the chest, and he choked out a laugh just as Nolan walked back up to them, with Juarez beside him. 

Tim looked Nolan in the eyes, a serious look on his face. “How bad was it?”

Nolan breathed in through his nose before answering. “It was bad.” 

Lucy turned around in Tim’s arms. “How bad?” 

“Like ‘I’m-surprised-she-survived’ bad.” Celina answered, and Lucy closed her eyes, breathing deeply, to stop herself from crying again. 

“Thank you for being here with her.” Tim said, and the duo nodded. 

“Of course. She’s family. There’s no other place we’d be.”

A moment later, Grace came back out through the doors, and walked up to them. “She’s still asleep, but should be awake within the hour.” 

“Can we see her?” Tim asked, and Grace nodded immediately. 

“Of course, follow me.” 

Lucy followed Grace immediately, and Tim followed after nodding at Nolan in thanks. Tim grasped Lucy’s hand as Grace led them through the hallways towards Tamara’s room. “She’s in here. I’ll give you some time.” Grace said, and walked away once Lucy nodded. 

Tim squeezed Lucy’s hands, and after a collective deep breath, they entered her room.

“Oh god,” Lucy whispered once she laid her eyes on Tamara. Tamara was laying in the bed, a cannula under her nose, heart rate monitor on her finger, and other various wires in her body, along with an IV with what Lucy assumed was pain medication. Lucy wasted no time in going to her side, and Tim wasn’t far behind, moving around her to stand at Tamara’s head, brushing her hair back and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Lucy grabbed onto her hand, and pulled up a chair. She pressed Tamara’s hand to her cheek and just gazed at her, a million thoughts running through her head. Tim came up beside her, and rested his hand on the back of her neck. 

“What’s on your mind?” Tim asked. “And don’t try and lie to me, Lucille.” 

Lucy rolled her eyes at his use of her full name. “Don’t call me Lucille.” She snapped, but sighed, and explained. “I was mad at her earlier. I was mad at her, and she was probably terrified. We could have lost her today, and all I cared about at the time was that she was missing school.”

“Luce-“ 

“I was mad at her over something so stupid, for no reason, too. So what she skipped class? She works so hard she should be allowed to rebel a little bit. I should have realized that it wasn’t like her to not respond to me. I should have driven her to school today, I should have let her stay home-“ Lucy rambled, more tears falling from her eyes. 

“Lucy-“

“She didn’t deserve this. She worked so hard to buy this car, and now all her hard work is gone. Her car is totalled, and she’s going to be crushed. She deserves to have a car, to have a safe space with her at school after not having that for so long-“

“Lucy.” Tim said, finally catching her attention. “Baby, you’re rambling, and none if it really makes sense.” 

“Sorry.”

“No, no don’t apologize, but you do need to calm down. That’s what she needs right now. She needs her mama to be the cool and collected one, right now, at least. We don’t want her feeling guilty for crashing her car, or her thinking that we’re mad that we had to leave work. She just needs us to show her that we’re here for her, and show her how much we love her.” He said, and Lucy nodded. 

“Okay, yeah, you’re right.” She said, and looked up at the ceiling, taking a deep, calming breath. 

“And about the car, we can just get her a new one.” He said, and Lucy looked at him like he had 10 heads. 

“What?” Lucy exclaimed. “How?”

“With the money I got from selling my father’s house.” He said, shrugging as he did. 

“You mean the money that you were saving to buy yourself a new car?” Lucy asked. 

“Yeah.” He said. Lucy shook her head in disbelief at him. “Look, Luce.” He explained. “The car I wanted was just that, a want. But Tamara just lost her car. The car that takes her to school and back every day, the car that she worked so hard to buy. She needs a car, and I’m willing to use the money to buy her something that she needs instead of something that I wanted.” 

“So you’re not gonna be sad every time you see a Tesla, and you’re not going to be singing “That Should Be Me” in your head?” Lucy joked, and Tim rolled his eyes, before grasping Lucy’s chin in his hand, and leaning in. 

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” 

Lucy hummed. “Yeah, I do. I’m hilarious.” 

Tim and Lucy shared a laugh, and had just started to lean in when Tamara began to move, and make noises. They immediately pulled apart; Tim shot up from his seat and resumed his place by her forehead, rubbing his thumb across her soft skin, while Lucy held on tighter to her hand, and shifted from the chair to the bed beside her leg. 

“Mmmm-mm,” Tamara whimpered, and opened her eyes, blinking at the harsh light. 

“I’ll go get the doctor, okay, T?” Tim whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead again, before heading out of the room in search of Grace. She nodded, squeezing her eyes closed. She opened her mouth again and attempted to talk again. 

“M-ma-“ Tamara said, and Lucy furrowed her brows, confused on what Tamara was trying to say. 

“Take your time, baby,” Lucy encouraged, leaning closer. 

Tamara’s face crumpled up slightly, and she was finally able to speak, as tears began to stream down her face. “M-mama,” she whisper-cried, and Lucy immediately helped her sit up, and wrapped her up in her arms, a warm feeling spreading through her chest after hearing her call her Mama for the first time. She knew Tamara probably didn’t know what exactly she was saying, but it meant that she saw her as her mom. And Lucy also knew that she needed to lean into it, to show her that she accepts her as her daughter, and that she loves her.

“I’ve got you, baby.” Lucy whispered into her ear. “You’re okay, Mama’s got you.” 

“W-where’s D-Dad?” Tamara said, and Lucy smiled, hearing the name, knowing Tim would cry.

“He went to go get Grace,” She explained. “Dr. Grace is just going to make sure that you’re okay, and then as soon as we are able to, me and Dad are going to bring you home, okay?” 

Tamara nodded, burrowing her head into Lucy’s neck. Lucy adjusted her position, laying back on the bed, and helping Tamara lay down, resting her head on her chest. Lucy started to play with her hair as Tim walked back in. 

“She’s on her way, she got pulled into another surgery, but she said to press the nurse’s station button if anything is wrong.” He said, walking over to the side of the bed, and taking up refuge in Lucy’s previous spot on the bed. He took Tamara’s hand, and rubbed his thumb back and forth. “How are you doing, T?” He asked. 

“‘m sorry, Daddy,” Tamara whimpered as she started to cry. Lucy hushed her quietly, her hand traveling down to rub her back. “I crashed the car. I didn’t mean to, I swear-“

Tim leaned forward. “It’s okay, bubba. I’m not mad, neither is Mom. It was just a car.” He soothed.

Lucy smiled, seeing tears in Tim’s eyes. She knew that it was a mixture of being thankful that Tamara was okay, and extreme happiness that Tamara called him dad. 

“A car can be replaced.” Lucy explained. “You, however, cannot be replaced.” 

“Yeah, bubba.” Tim said, pressing a kiss to her hand. “There’s no replacing our daughter, you know that right?” 

“D-Daughter?” Tamara stuttered, and both Tim and Lucy nodded. 

“Of course you are. You are so important to us, T. And we want you to know this because we know your birthday is coming up, and that you’re stressed about having to move out, and we want you to know that we want you to stay. Especially after today, we want you where we know you’re going to be safe.” Tim explained. 

“You’re our girl,” Lucy said, kissing Tamara’s head. “You’re with us forever, okay?” 

“Even when I annoy you?” Tamara asked, a small smile on her face. 

Tim laughed. “Especially then.”

[lurkinglurkerwholurks]

for writing prompt:

tim + alfred, illness. either one.

He found Alfred in the solarium, snoozing in a pool of sunlight. It was still cold outdoors, and some of the chill would manage to slip in even between the lead-lined glass panes, so the warmth of the sun would feel pleasant instead of overbearing, even at midday.

It was strange, even after all this time, to find Alfred still. The old butler was never one for frenetic energy or action—in fact, he was most known for his solidity, his air of intense permanence and fixedness—but for as long as Tim had know him, Alfred had been a doer. Even with the majority of the Manor boarded up, there was always a task at hand, from household chores to meal planning to weapons maintenance. The unceasing ebb and flow of young people had only added to Alfred's clockwork patterns that kept him ticking onward, from dawn to deep into the night.

That mechanical path had slowed some in recent years, as the family aged and multiplied, as the Manor emptied, as the years gathered upon Alfred's skin in wrinkles and liver spots. They had been after him to rest, to set aside or hire out the bulk of his responsibilities. Tim only wished it hadn't taken the combined force of old age and illness to make it so.

"Do you plan to hover like a specter the entire time or to exercise some manners?" The inquiry was pitched to carry, though the voice that slung it out was raspy and faint. Alfred still sat in his chair, blanket tucked around his legs, eyes closed.

Tim ducked his head, sheepish. Of course Alfred would catch him out.

"I thought you were asleep," he said by way of excuse as he crossed the tiled floor, before ducking his head to kiss the weathered cheek, careful not to jar the nasal cannula.

"Resting my eyes," Alfred admitted with a touch of dryness to his voice. He patted Tim's cheek before letting him pull away. "How are you, my boy?"

"Alright. Better than you," Tim said as he pulled up a chair and sat nearly knee to knee. It was meant as a joke. It didn't feel like a joke.

"Just" a cold, they had been told at first, but the cold had settled into a case of pneumonia that had lingered long past its welcome. The oxygen tank next to the chair was a compromise, allowing Alfred freedom from the pulseox that was otherwise clipped to him and its accompanying beeping. A concession in a long line of concessions, from the reduced tasks to the cane Tim knew he would find propped in the corner, to the wheelchair Alfred now sat in.

Tim had been out of town when the pneumonia had arrived. He had been right across town two months ago, the last time Alfred fell. It didn't seem to matter how near he was, or how far, if he was anywhere other than right here.

Alfred didn't like to be fussed over, so Tim tried to keep his worries tucked away and off his face. He must have failed in some way, or Alfred was Alfred and knew everything, because he tutted and patted the back of Tim's hand where it rested atop the folded blanket.

"Stop looking at me like I'm on my deathbed, child."

He wasn't. It was pneumonia, not the plague. But. He could be. Alfred was ageless, Alfred was eternal... but Alfred was old. And Tim... They all had... lost people. Before. It had been a blessed long time since such a loss, but Tim knew. He knew it wouldn't be forever.

"If you've come to be gloomy on this sunny day, I'll ask you to leave," Alfred warned, some of the old starch creeping back into his voice.

He wouldn't. Alfred loved it when any of them visited, even (especially) the wide array of kids with their shrieks and boundless energy. This might be Bruce's house, but Alfred reigned supreme, and he would never turn any of them away.

"Sorry," Tim said, ducking his head again. He pushed a small smile to his lips and offered a version of the truth as recompense. "Just kicking myself for not coming by more often. I always mean to, and then..."

Life. Work. Family. Friends. Hobbies. Cases. It all got in the way. And he knew those were all good things. He just... needed to be better.

"I am always happy to see you when you come," Alfred said with another pat of the hand. "All of you. Whenever you have time to spare. But I know there is much to occupy."

And he was wasting time, here, now, feeling sorry for himself. Tim cleared his throat and loosened his smile into something more genuine. "Speaking of. Remember the feud I was telling you about? Between 4B and the guy across the hall? What was the last thing I told you?"

The saga of hostilities between two of Tim's neighbors had been long, protracted, and a source of dishy delight for Tim and Alfred alike.

Blue eyes faded with age and creeping cataracts peered out at him from behind bifocal lenses, for the moment as keen as ever. "As I recall, there was the incident with the tied grocery bag of potato peels and cat feces."

Tim leaned forward. "That's old news. I have an update."

Alfred closed his eyes, chin tipped up so he could steeple his fingers together with an air of perfect concentration. "Leave out no detail, sir. I am listening."

[buddiebeginz]

I’ve made posts about this before but I’m gonna keep on about it. Please if you love Buddie (when you have time) you need to be posting about them on every social media platform there is. Also liking and commenting on posts especially ones that are on official 911 accounts like the main ABC one or the actors or when interviews come out.

If ABC posts about Buck/Eddie or Ryan and Oliver you need to remind them in the comments we’re rooting for Buddie. I know Buddie fandom is bigger and louder than B/T fans but I keep seeing them all over. There's no reason that pairing with two eps of build up are getting anywhere near the level of attention as Buddie does.

I’m not saying as fans we have all this power over what is going to happen on the show but we have some sway. It’s part of how bi Buck has even happened. So us being so vocal and supportive of Buddie all these years and even more now while the story is still unfolding matters.

I don't want Tim or anyone else getting the impression that we want T*mmy sticking around any longer than necessary at least not as a love interest.

I know there's been a lot of talk about how the show needs take their time and build Buddie's story if they're going canon and I know some want Buck to be with T*mmy so Buddie can have that slow burn towards getting together. While I do think it's important that Buddie's story is not rushed and handled with care that fact is we really have no idea how many seasons the show even has. I wish some of you would realize we are not living in the golden age of tv anymore. We are living during a time when tv shows get canceled even when they are successful just as a way for networks to cut costs. It's why Fox canceled 911 before it was moved to ABC.

So as much as I do want the show take all the time in the world with Buddie I also want us to actually get to see them go canon. I also feel like we've been in a slow burn with them for six years especially those of us who have watched the show for its entire run. I want to see the show make some progression in moving Buddie's story further along. I'm not saying I want them to be in a relationship tomorrow, absolutely not. But I do think that moving into season 8 I'd like the show to have given us some kind of canon sign that both men feel something for each other beyond friendship. We know they do but I mean something that can't be taken any other way like say an almost kiss at the wedding for example. I'd also like for Eddie to be dealing with his own sexuality storyline by next season.

Back to T*mmy in all honesty the main reason I don't want to see him sticking around much longer is because of his fans. I'm tired of just how much the B/T fans have taken over our fandom. All the tags even ones on other social media platforms are being overrun by B/T and worse by negativity towards Buddie and Eddie and the complete minimizing of the importance of Buddie going canon. I'm glad that T*mmy has helped Buck with his bi awakening but he is so clearly not meant to be an endgame love interest. I just want to see him gone or have the storyline at least move on to where if he's still on the show it's as a friend for Buck, which I personally think he needs more than a relationship right now. Someone who is queer who can help him navigate this newly discovered part of himself.

[cleromancy]

while from the doylist perspective the stories are specifically propping tim up compared to jason by doing this... i am obviously still very interested in, and compelled by, jason canonically having a pretty high opinion of tim going all the way back to their first meeting.

(for the record, absolutely nothing in-universe justifies jason having this opinion of tim up until tim springs him from prison imo. he beat the snot out of tim in tt29 and it wasn't even hard and yet for some fucking reason he still walks away thinking tim is a Better Robin than he was? like... ok. sure. more thoughts on this later in the post tho)

so the new earth (post-crisis pre-reboot) continuity tim-jason interactions we have, in order, are batman 617-618 (from batman: hush, this ones a retcon and barely counts, its just jason holding tim hostage with a batarang to his throat; and you might also get a glimpse of jay doing this in batman annual 25 lol but its in the other room so im not checking), tt29 (published in the middle of uth coming out, lol), tt47 (countdown tie-in), robin 177 and 182-183 (post-countdown, immediately after jason dumps his red robin costume and one of tims rogues fishes it out of the dumpster to wear, correctly intuiting *for some reason* that this will get to tim), and......... sigh. stupid battle for the stupid cowl.

(and, since were talking about jasons perspective, theres also the picture wall in lost days. i dont know what issue it is because to me lost days is not "made up" of "issues", it is one book i simply open to devour whole whilst weeping.)

i think tt 29 is the interaction i find the most frustrating because... we have an idea what tt29 would have been like if it were good. bc we have ga01 69-72. and granted Tim is such a cocky little shit (affectionate) that jason simply. Would probably not have been able to scare him no matter what, lol... but imagine if this fucking issue had been good.

ok cutting 4 length

the problem with johns. .......the FIRST problem with johns. is that he regularly has interesting ideas and his execution of them completely falls flat. the second problem with johns is that he can't write dialogue. the third problem with johns is that it was really really important to him that you understood what a Talented And Special Boy tim is but instead of showing you that he just forced other characters to. tell you. over and over. jason is not johns' only victim in this quest. (and johns was also not the only perpetrator, as we will see when i get to fuckin fabnic.)

but like i said i *am* actually interested in the potential here, because i do think there is potential.

and i also think that--at least when you read into it as deeply as i do--jason is sympathetic in this issue. (don't give me "hes beating up a child" crap here btw. jason's only 2-3 years older, tims a peer to him, they could easily have gone to high school together if jason hadnt fuckin died.) johns deliberately shows us Jason hoping raven gets a reprieve from the nightmares, and he certainly was *trying* to show us how much it would fucking suck to be remembered as the Bad Robin, forgotten except to be a cautionary tale, what kind of things that would do to a person emotionally. AND he makes a point of highlighting Jason's loneliness and isolation as robin, and. tbh i dont think the issue itself rly blames Jason for that. (you most certainly do not gotta hand it to him though. under no circumstances do you gotta hand it to johns for anything.)

and while jason tearing off his clothes to reveal his party city knockoff robin costume--the better to beat you with, my dear--was, erm. falling mostly on the wrong side of the line btwn camp and cringe... i do think jason writing his own name in blood on the wall was right on the money, *especially* because it was obviously not tims blood. like, tim wasnt bleeding anywhere near enough for that. it was either fake blood or jason prepped his own beforehand for them to DNA test--but also if they saw it before they saw tim, to make them fear for tims life, as a reminder of the risks theyre dealing with here.

oh but i was planning on talking specifically about like. what Jason might actually have seen in tim that left him with a positive impression. as-written? kinda nothing. lmao. or well the one thing imo is this

just kidding i couldn't find the panelz somehow despite posting them literally like yesterday and i ran into this lol:

>:| got distracted again. by this.

anyway i give up ill add the pics later. but its the exchange where jason has *decisively* won the fight, tims crumpled on the floor concussed and winded, and jason demands if tim *really* thinks he was good enough to tail bruce unnoticed for weeks.

and tim says "yes." hes beat up enough he can barely talk but there's still no hesitation whatsoever. and jason is *really* down on himself in this issue--he calls himself a failure, he feels like no one cared about his death, he feels unremembered. and jasons stated intentions here were to get the measure of tim but i also stand by the interpretation that he wanted to warn tim off of the sidekick gig, to remind him you uh. you have to be dick fucking grayson to survive it. (i dont believe either of them mentions him by name, but hey, dicks shadow is big enough for the both of them.)

i think what jason finds worthy of respect here--and, on top of that, intriguing enough that in robin 177 he entreats tim to join him--is the confidence, and also? at absolutely no point does tim believe jason is there to kill him. not a fuckin high bar, i know, but like i said i do think jason had *planned* to try and scare tim off (just also mega derailed himself by accident bc he got too in his feelings about the statue room 🥺), and... its not a bar he would have expected Tim to clear, is all im saying. particularly because while it is *possible* this took place in the middle of uth (tt 29 was released in november 05, between batman 646 and 647, which is the part where slade shows up bc black mask hired him to take jason out, so tt29 couldnt have happened in the middle of those two specific issues, but there are several other points at which jason could have taken a break in menacing gotham to fly to san Francisco), with Jason talking so negatively about himself i have to assume this is after the end of uth.

(you might be able to place this in the in-universe chronology by if/when teen titans mentions chemo dropping on bludhaven, which happens immediately before the bruce-jason-joker final showdown. however i dont feel like poking around for that or any other details to anchor tt29 to the other events happening at the time rn.)

i just also think so much of what jasons doing in this issue is like--he doesn't know *what* hes there to do. he had a plan and hes kinda fumbling it, not because tim is being especially resourceful but because jasons still licking his emotional wounds from uth, and titans tower is bringing up ones i dont think he ever realized hadnt healed. hes feeling everything at once. hes angry and hurt and full of self loathing but i think by the time tim simply says "yes," jason hits the stage of just being... burnt out. done lashing out, fucking tired, just wants to go home, if he can ever find it.

but i do think that "yes" would stick in his craw for a long time afterwards.

tt47: tim kicks jason in the nuts and pretty much declares them even for tt29 lolol. you may have seen my post about how jason only *sometimes* wears armor in countdown--hes drawn in the armored turtleneck and tac pants in tt47, but there are times in countdown hes out there fighting aliens and metas and shit in his jacket, a *t-shirt,* and *jeans.* just a squishy regular degular baseline human doing this and no one ever brings it up. but anyway. do i think tim would have seen jason wearing the equivalent of civvies plus a domino mask, narrow in on that, and immediately decide to kick him in the balls? i sure do. do i also think that this would make him rise in jasons estimation?

yeah. yeah, i really do. lol

anyway after this! after this is jasons briefish world-hopping stint as red robin saving the universe being a big damn hero and getting paid dust by everyone around him, in countdown; i think i mentioned before in this post that at the end he abandons the red robin suit in a dumpster, where it gets picked up by one of tims rogues. this storyline sucks and fabnic is a hack unfortunately. the rogue did it bc he wants tims attention or whatever. not important except for how irritating it is that fabnic fumbled a concept this juicy (tim inheriting and eventually purposely adopting The Bad Robin Mantle) which is also further fumbled by stupid battle for the stupid cowl, and the people who it falls to to salvage it are. johns again, in adventure comics 3, and yost, who is a better writer than johns or fabnic but not by like a huge margin.

and while i do think tim having a bad opinion of jason at this point was inevitable i find it so frustrating the way it was executed... like so often with Bad Tim Writing and also fuckin DC Editorial's Jason Slander Agenda shit it wasn't because in-universe thats how the characters would feel, the writer was using tim as a mouthpiece, and jasons competence and things he cares about arent taken seriously... BUT WHATEVER the point is that when Tim goes to stop Jason from his villainous scheme to reduce crime or whatevr jason has such a high opinion of him that he asks tim to join him:

and jasons loneliness, his desperation to be heard, is such a theme for him in the new earth/post crisis era and i wish it had been. Handled better lol are you noticig a theme here its that Jason has been written badly. (tim too, tbh.) and when tim says no jasons dejected but unsurprised acceptance breaks my heart. but to me the most interesting part of jasons appearance at the end of tims robin series is in 182, when tim--for absolutely no good reason--gives jason the means to break out of prison.

he says something about how its what Bruce would have wanted, but for. reasons i wont get too deeply into rn, that absolutely does not hold water.

anyway i just think there's no way jason doesn't start crushing on tim at least a little at this point. shrug.

bftc sucks and i dont want to look at it rn. but its also got examples of jasons high opinion of tim. and also im mad at it bc both countdown AND his appearances in robin feel like they could have been taking jason to a like. more of an antihero type of role and then we get bftc and morrison and its kind of. fucking hard to get jason anywhere near back on track after that for those of us who still like playibg in the post-crisis pre-reboot sandbox. and i wouldnt be mad about that if bftc had been good bc Jason absolutely does make an incredibly interesting and effective and tragic antagonist when handled well but well. he wasnt. and i have no idea what bftc would.have even been like if it was good bc it was so off the wall and dumb and assassinated actually *everyones* characters. so.

anyway

im just going to roll back to robin 183 now

jasons referring to the damage tim got when he got a little bit exploded in 180, this pretty nasty burn on the back of his head, which was actually why he wore jasons RR cowl for the first time (he was still robin). but what you do see here--aside from Tims narration which puts him *firmly* on the side of obnoxiously arrogant and judgmental instead of charmingly cocky in this issue, to my estimation, thanks for nothing fabnic--is the two of them on firmly cordial terms. jason still thinks more highly than tim does of him, but theyre asking each other about their injuries... tim caring about the wellbeing of people he doesn't even like is par for the course with him, ofc, but once again Jason doesn't really get that a whole lot. constantly haunted by this panel from countdown btw:

does he though!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

here is another jaytim preboot canon interactions post from a few months ago with some more thoughts, some repeated lol.

anyway. incoherent rambling complete for now. however. jaytim time is all the time 👍 i will revisit this.

[krewekreep]

After the Night Ends Chapter 2

1.4K Alucard X OC!Reader. Reader is non binary with a femme body. AU but contains lore from Castlevania & Castlevania: Nocturne. Takes place during the last episode and goes from there

Angst, Estranged Lovers AU, Soulmate AU, Alucard is a reclusive, flirtatious snarky brat. Not 18+ yet but following chapters may and will be properly tagged as such. Filler Chapter kinda Song: Beyoncé - Disappear

⋆♱✮☽🦇☽✮♰⋆ ⋆♱✮☽🦇☽✮♰⋆ ⋆♱✮☽🦇☽✮♰⋆

You couldn’t go anywhere because Alucard had neared you. You admittedly jumped at his approach, throwing your gaze quickly towards the ground. When you first met him you had had so much spunk and tenacity. You still did. But his love humbled you. You could do nothing more after time but climb into his lap, leaning your head into the crook of his neck. By this time he understood your moonlight tendencies letting you mewl low touching all over him until you’d nuzzle yourself against him to nap. He was your favorite resting spot. Whether his chest, back, thighs, arms, lap your head had fallen asleep basically anywhere it could’ve with him. Physical intimacy was your love language.

The touch of his palm to your head relaxed you. You opened your eyes to his piercing yellow ones. “Adrian…” you spoke again. As if a prayer, an amen. His name was peace and prosperity. Home and hospitality. He was all you wanted, all you had had, and what could you say to him now. Mute, trembling, awe struck. “Rise up my love.” My love. You shuddered in his grasp to which he chuckled half heartedly. He didn’t quite mean love the same as he had when his face lit up or blushed. How he would whisper “my love” over and over in the crook of your neck as his moans caught in his throat. When he’d call out to you because you slipped or hurt yourself. A sharp “My love!” followed by his hurried rush to your side. Your hand in his, dwarfed in comparison. His nails elongated, curved and sharp. “Please don’t let me do all the talking.” He threw defeated. “My love…” fell from your lips dazed. You closed in without a second thought wrapping your arms around his preserving, wide torso, head on his suited chest. “My life how I missed you…” a sob broke through. “I missed you so much!” You clasped onto him so tightly your breasts began to hurt. His arms were delicately at your side. You nuzzled into him wishing you could disappear back to the castle and explain everything. You looked up at Adrian who while definitely loved you seemed…uncomfortable. You stepped away as quickly as you had leapt towards him adjusting your clothing and emotions appropriately. You guessed it wouldn’tbe such a happy reunion. No, you were happy. It simply wouldn’t be easy and for god knows how long you’ll be catching up to the She-Beast Erzabeth. And too there were much bigger concerns of Erzabeth. Everyone still confused bristled at his denial of you. Defensive and protective they knew you entirely different from he. And who was he to reject you so easily.

“Well,” Richter threw haphazardly. “You two can explain all of this at a later time. We must move forward and defeat Erzabeth.” He thought his attempt to lead the group would very least get Maria and Annette to agree. But Annette especially kept a cautious eye on both of you. You knew she of everyone would likely feel the most betrayed…and by the reception you’ve garnered maybe lying…maybe all this wasn’t worth it. I should’ve stayed away. How absolutely dumb of me. You scoffed throwing your head back incredulous. Maybe it naive to assume it would be a romantic sweeping reunion…but now it felt as if all was nothing. Unbeknownst to you Alucard took you in with a rake in his heart. How you let your hair grow a bit past your shoulders, more kept than you ever had back then. How you smelled tired, lonely but yearning. How the top of you smelled of magnolias and cedar wood. He was obsessed with catching any signs of aging. While not aged visually beyond a 25-30 year old, the weather of time was hidden in the small creases of your eyes and smile line. The bunch of your brow finally indented permanently—as he always told you it would if you didn’t check your propensity to scowl. He felt compelled to just…watch you. As he had in the shadows and windows when you grew familiar enough to meander about. He had no real reaction. Seeing you meant everything and nothing. He couldn’t even be solemn. Nor forlorn. He was indifferent. Grateful you were alive and for what it seemed well…but that confirmation only too angered him. Subdued him. Removed him as he grew long out of spite and resentment. Before, when he could only miss you pathetically. Then after when he could only hate you pathetically. Once he could feel no more, he submitted to his eternal slumber lamenting much of what felt had mattered before didn’t…and so laying down to rest felt easy, if not final.

“We would be remiss to fork on towards her as,” looking towards Alucard for agreement. “We are incredibly unprepared to face the breadth of her. It would be suicide.” Your band of youngins look over you. You mentally adopted all four (including Eduard) and while traveling you grew closest to Annette. Richter and Maria were dear to you too, incredibly. But her story of enslavement and eventual freedom struck a deep chord with you. While your complexion was lighter than Annette’s, you favored closer to Drolta had her ancestry been more overtly mixed. You were of a wandering, diverse group. You and your blood kin were definitely darker than large portions of your ever migrating community. The equal stares from people similar to you, yet from else where unknown gave you a strange sense of familiarity and understanding, until it was nothing for you or others to tip your head or smile in acknowledgment in passing. Oftentimes you wished them blessed journeys and safe arrivals. Only because for you, especially after you were alone, it mattered to see others like you. A reminder that yes while lonely you were connected to something. And maybe they too were wishing you the best as you moved forward…

“Belmont,” Alucard throws as a response to you. Richter perks up alert as if a student caught. “Yes…uh, sir???” Everyone else looks to him sighing but Alucard stiffens next to you. Previously, in another time you suppose, he’d fall out in laughter. Or, as the tease he is, lead Richter further into acknowledging him as an authority figure. What would be to his immense amusement had he told Trevor—right. Although you saw Trevor in Richter, it was enough removed. You thought that even had Trevor been young his ruggedness would shine through (along with his five o clock shadow). You’d never say but a couple of Belmont’s had crossed your path. None you ever spoke to, but in the evolving noise of bars where people need bad deeds done a bellowing drunken voice could be heard. And every time you slipped through crowds towards the door you sent a glance that direction. Always a mass of brown hair, sun worn skin, and jokes for days. Alucard…could only see Trevor in Richter. Of course, more clean cut maybe even overtly less reckless or over confident. But Belmonts’ always carry their weight with pride. Their shoulders extended as a shield with a prepared but leisurely stride. How Alucard wishes to tell Trevor of his descendant’s blooming Belmont bravery. But he sets on, “Are you aware of anything you’d like to tell me?” Alucard is boring holes into Richter. Richter shuffles uncomfortable, defensive grabbing for his whip instinctively. Annette and Maria follow standing protectively at his side. For you, you see the amazing kids so young, daring, and loving of one another. Your heart swells with parental pride. “That…” Alucard’s eye sight drifts to the bridled whip secure to the nervous boy’s side. “Have you…discovered something.” You knew exactly what he was inquiring about and so did Richter. “Yeah I guess I uh..” he rubs the back of his head again nervous. “I met my grandfather…Juste.” An aura of cosmic blue crackles off his whip which only you and Alucard notice.

“I see,” Alucard without a word turns about face walking in the opposite direction of the eclipse and Erzabeth. “None of you are ready.” They all gasp. Completely confused by to them, a strange but beautiful man, who also was being weird to their newfound loved one. Richter prodded the destination of Adrian who without breaking a beat said: “My castle.”

⋆♱✮☽🦇☽✮♰⋆ ⋆♱✮☽🦇☽✮♰⋆ ⋆♱✮☽🦇☽✮♰⋆ ⋆♱✮☽

[redbirdandbluebird23]

The Kids from Yesterday - Chapter 7

Masterlist

The first thing Tim registered when he came back to himself was his body shaking, the second was the heavy blanket wrapped around his shoulders. The shaking clearly wasn’t because he was cold then. He was wrapped in the scent of jasmine, green tea and lemon, but vanilla, apple and cinnamon with the undertones of pregnancy was present too. 

He blinked his eyes open and the hardwood of the library bookshelves came into focus, along with the sofa in front of the fireplace that was currently home to a sleeping Jason; the pregnancy pillow Bruce had bought him a couple of weeks before, after he started complaining about his back, between his knees. He looked calm now, but there was a slight lingering panic in his scent that worried Tim. 

“Jason’s fine. He was just worried about you.” Kon said, his scent flaring protectively in response to Tim’s changing scent. 

It was only as he spoke, that Tim realised he was in Kon’s lap on the wingback armchair near the fireplace. 

“Wh-” He cut off to cough, his mouth tasting like chemicals. 

“Here.” Kon held up a glass with a straw and let him take a few sips. 

“What happened?” Tim asked.

“Not sure of all of the details, but there was something about a new fear toxin strain and lack of antidotes and you… you were screaming for me. I heard you, but… even when I got here, you wouldn't- You wouldn’t stop.” Kon said, his voice cracking as he stared at one of the bookcases with unseeing eyes before shaking his head and looking back at Tim. “Jason suggested that being around him in his current state might calm you down and keep you calm, but Bruce wouldn’t even hear about you being left alone with him half out of your mind, and well, there was no way in hell I was going anywhere, not after that. The others are still out cleaning up the mess, but I assume they’ll be back soon.”

Tim knew he still had nightmares about Kon being gone, even if he could rarely remember them in the morning, but he hadn’t realised it would still be affecting him to the point of being the thing he re-lived under fear toxin. But Jason’s thinking had been on point. Pregnant omegas, especially pregnant pack omegas, were known for being able to de-escalate and calm down most other designations in extreme circumstances. Omegas were fiercely protective of those they considered theirs during the best of times, but it was a known fact that all of that was amplified during pregnancy and motherhood, making them some of the safest designations to be around (not always of course, there were outliers, just as with any statistic).

Read on Ao3

[mangoisms]

i'll be the dangerous ledge (you be the parachute)

━ chapter ten: and just let our walls cave in | read chapter nine

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 3.8k

━ warnings: kidnapping, drugging (but absolutely nothing else happens)

━ masterlist

Obviously, with your newfound happiness, the universe decides to throw a wrench in your plans.

Your plans with Tim, specifically, as in the ones for your date. 

Everything is fine, initially. Despite being a self-proclaimed night owl, Tim has surprised you multiple times this week by letting himself in at a quarter till seven and making you coffee and a quick breakfast and packing you a lunch while you get up and get dressed. Of course, he will then head straight back to his apartment and go back to sleep for several hours and he gets more than a few kisses out of it, so, it’s not a particularly arduous task, you don’t think. 

And it is, of course, a deeply pleasant thing for you because you would never say no to seeing him in the mornings before work. Especially not with how you step out of the bathroom, finished getting dressed, and there he is, dozing at the little table in your kitchen, only lifting his head when you near and you can never stop yourself from running your fingers through his hair, his arms sliding around your waist as he nuzzles his face into your belly and mumbles, “Morning, gorgeous,” voice still raspy with sleep and it takes everything in you not to melt into a puddle right then and there.

It calls forth some admittedly indulgent visions for the future, a future you are starting to find you desperately want. One where you can share a bed with him, where, honestly, you would be happy just being able to wake up and find him there. He doesn’t even need to wake up or do anything — he would simply be there. Then being able to come back home to him after a long day… It’s the kind of future that makes you ache with the desire for it.

But these things take time. You know that. And you’re already privileged enough that you live in the same building. It’s only a couple minutes from his place to yours. Things would be a whole lot tougher if he was in, you don’t know, Coventry.

(Of course, the proximity is the thing that trips you up, the fact that he is close and you can only dream of more.)

Anyway, like you were saying, the first part of your day is fine. The school day, that is. Ms. C just slaps on a G-rated movie for each of the periods. Half the other teachers do the same. You aren’t technically allowed to do this, since showing movies to the kids can be a finicky ordeal with parents and no one, certainly not the school board, wants to be held liable, but you don’t envision that it will come back to bite you in the ass. It’s the last day of school, after all.

And with that, it is a tiny bit emotional, at least for you. But the kids promise to visit. You don’t know if that’ll actually pan out but it’s a sweet thought that tides you over for the rest of the day.

Your date with Tim is set for six-thirty. Dinner first, then a trip to… somewhere. He hasn’t told you. It’s a surprise. 

Before that, you need to hang around after school to help Ms. C pack up the classroom for the summer. After, you feel a little tired from the day’s event, so before you set off for Rose Oaks, you decide it won’t hurt to run over to the Sundollar a block over to grab a quick drink, something to tide you over until dinner. 

Ms. C heads out first and you leave your things in the classroom, deciding just to make the walk. So, you step out with a couple dollars in the pocket of your jeans, as well, of course, with your pepper spray. Dearly beloved, you do not go anywhere without it. You’ve taken a few self-defense course (and Tim’s tested those skills with his own lessons he’s taken; that was fun, even if you did kind of get your ass kicked) and it’s not like you think you could stand a chance against, you don’t know, Darkseid but, like, you have a decent shot against your run-of-the-mill douchebag, right?

Wrong.

And you know that when you get hit on the back of the head, crumple miserably, and before you can gather your wits to even think of putting up a fight, you feel the sharp prick of a needle and you’re out.

(Of course you get kidnapped within one week of dating Tim Drake.

Of freakin’ course.)

Waking up is a pain.

Your senses are muddled and everything feels like syrup. Floaty and weak, your lungs work too slowly for your liking. You’re on the ground, you think, because of how hard it is, as well as a vaguely unpleasant smell.

The back of your head aches fiercely, with a headache accompanying it. Your stomach lurches, nausea enveloping you. You just want to go back to sleep but for now, the tides of unconsciousness abandon you, leaving you to struggle with your too-slow lungs. 

You’d panic if you had the sense to do it but all you can do is go along with it, listening to the sound of gruff voices, sharp and aggressive and too loud. 

A strange sound reaches your ears. It takes you a second to realize it’s you, the sound of your teeth chattering.

Cold. Too cold for June in Gotham. 

You can’t move. Your limbs are filled with lead, weighing you down. Something tight burns at your wrists. 

The voices come in and out of your ears. 

“— gave her too much, you stupid idiot. If she dies, you think we’re gonna get the money?”

“I don’t know… Wouldn’t, uh, wouldn’t they want her body at least?”

You flinch at the sound of skin hitting skin. Or something inside you does, at least. You don’t — can’t — move an inch. 

“She’s more valuable alive! Goddamnit, you had one job —”

“It was freakin’ daylight, man, I don’t work good in the daylight! I don’t know why we couldn’t have waited until —”

“Wait. Did you hear that?”

“You think making shit up is gonna get you three idiots out of this?”

“No, no, no, I heard somethin’, too.”

“Well, did you stooges make sure you weren’t followed?”

“Of course we did! But, man, the sun is still out! It’s risky!”

“It’s Gotham. You think this shit stops just ‘cause the sun is out? What are we, freakin’ vampires? It’s better if anything. The only one they got hanging around in the daylight is that damn glowstick.”

“Signal.”

“Whatever.”

That’s kind of mean, you think distantly. Signal is cool. He’s saved a couple of your kids on their walks home. They were entirely unbothered about the whole thing and you could only ever listen in mild horror as they recounted the stories to you. But at least they were unscathed. No thanks to Signal. 

“But the sun’s gonna be setting soon. We still haven’t gotten anything and if Batman and the others come out then…”

“The Bats got bigger things to deal with than some rich boy’s girlfriend.”

“I don’t know…”

“What? Are you backing out? ‘Cause if you’re backing out —”

“Hey, hey, hey, chill! I’m just — I’m just thinking out loud, okay!”

“Well, don’t. We got the girl and I don’t know if you realize what we’re gonna have to do if we don’t get that money —”

Your kidnappers are kind of idiots.

It’s a stray thought amidst a dizzying field of them. Too much all at once. But that rings true in your head. 

Along with the cold petrifying thought that if they don’t get their money, they’re going to kill you.

But it’s gotten very quiet. Too quiet. What —?

The first gunshot makes you flinch. Your limbs finally listen. You can’t stop yourself from curling in. Or as best as you can with your wrists bound to… something. More gunshots ring out, voices yelling now.

If you could just open your eyes, if your lids, which feel so impossibly heavy, could cooperate. But a familiar darkness tugs at you, chest stuttering with each slow breath you take. Too slow, you think, and your heart should be pounding but it’s not, it’s like molasses in your chest. Your chest, that suddenly feels heavy, like something is sitting on you.

The gunshots cut out abruptly, as do the voices. At least, the yelling, you mean. 

Now it’s just… pain. Strangled cries that cut out abruptly, the audible snap of bones breaking, someone… someone sobbing…

Then it’s quiet.

Something wet traces over the bridge over your nose. You’re crying, you realize. 

It’s too much, too difficult to keep awake. You just want to go back to sleep and wake up somewhere else, in your apartment, in Tim’s arms…

But then —

— someone says your name.

Breathes it, syllables wrapped in equal amounts of warmth and pain, underlaid by a sense of panic. 

And you — you know this voice.

A soft tenor that haunts your dreams, that whispers cheesy jokes in your ear sometimes, that teases you when he feels particularly cheeky, that calls you sweet things with so much love, sometimes, you think you might burst from it.

It’s the stunning, horrifying, kind of realization that makes your voice work and your lips move.

“Tim?”

What is he… He shouldn’t be here… He’s in danger…

Quiet for a second, a slight tugging at your wrists that burns before the pressure is released, then a hand — a gloved hand, what? — on your cheek. 

“It’s me, honey, I’m right here.”

Your voice fails you this time around and you can only whimper in response, more tears falling. But the air you need does not come. Everything is still like molasses and you’re still frightfully cold.

Arms slide under you, something warm wrapping around you. It helps fight off the chill but your breath gets shorter and shorter with each rise and fall of your chest.

Tim keeps talking, to you, to someone else, someone called… Oracle… and he sounds so panicked, so scared, you want to comfort him, tell him you just need to catch your breath and you’ll be okay. Well, if he could get you home, too, that would be great. 

You barely manage it. Somehow, someway, just the discomforting thought of Tim scared lets your eyes crack open. 

But it’s not Tim holding you in his lap. 

It’s… Red Robin.

Oh.

Oh.

Maybe it’s the realization, maybe it’s the drug still in your system, but in the next moment, darkness falls over you like a blanket and you’re gone.

Your sleep is restless. Filled with sharp jostling movement and murmuring voices.

You surface in and out of consciousness.

Once, laying on something not like the ground, cushioned, but not entirely comfortable, either. Low voices converse near you. 

“— can’t do anything but let it run its course. There is no overdose treatment for GHB. She just needs fluids and rest, as well as constant supervision. I trust you, Tim, will be able to do that.”

“Done.”

“She can stay at the manor —”

“No. She won’t like waking up somewhere she doesn’t know. I’ll take her back to her place.”

“Fine. Spoiler says she’ll watch —”

And then nothing else.

Again, some indeterminate amount of time later, accompanied with a swaying kind of motion, arms wrapped around you.

A sound, like a window sliding open, just as your body meets a much softer surface. A bed.

“Boots off, Spoiler.”

“You’re joking, right — okay, not joking, got it, I’ll just stay here. Unless you want any help with her?”

“I got it.”

“She’s gonna be fine, Tim.”

“I know.”

A sigh. “Alright. Then I’ll be up on the roof.”

Another sound, the window closing, and you’re out.

The next time you surface, you do so for good.

Your body aches, as does your head. Your hand feels oddly cold but the rest of you is warm, tucked beneath blankets with a space heater somewhere —

No, not a space heater.

Another body, not pressed against you, not touching you at all, actually, just beneath the blankets, too. The comforting scent of eucalyptus reaches you. 

You open your eyes, vision blurry. The room is dark, except for the glow of something near you. A sound, the… the click of keys?

You groan as you move, body still weak, with a vague feeling of unwell that you hate.

The clicking stops. 

Your name, hushed.

You shift, squirming a little. Something tugs at your hand and you reach for it instinctively.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s just an IV drip to help flush the drug out. You’re okay. You’re okay.”

An arm slides around your back as you struggle to sit up. Tim helps, the laptop previously in his lap now sitting on the nightstand. Keeping an arm around you, he turns around again and turns something on.

Warm yellow from the lamp there illuminates your bedroom. 

Your eyes flicker to your window, a fuzzy memory of Tim and someone else, but there is nothing and nobody there. Darkness from outside greets you instead.

“Time is it?” you mumble, reaching up to rub the sleep out of your eyes. “What day it is? Saturday?”

You really don’t feel good. 

Not a nauseous kind of feeling, but one close to it, like if you thought of the wrong thing, you’d be hunched over the toilet instantly.

If you could even get to the toilet in time.

But as your vision clears, you glimpse a bedpan on the nightstand nearest to you, along with some other medical supplies, and then the IV line, hooked onto a pole you definitely never owned, and feeding liquid into the IV in your hand.

You don’t like it.

Tim brushes some of your hair out of your face, touch frighteningly gentle, as well as the look on his face. There is something else there, though, a kind of hesitance that he never had before. Almost as if he’s afraid to touch you, afraid to do this for you. 

You don’t understand why, your brain still struggling to boot up. 

“Three. And yes, it’s Saturday.”

“AM?”

He hums. “Want to take off the drip?”

You nod, feeling a bit childish for it, but there is no judgment or annoyance in his face. His face that you continue to study if only because something is niggling at you and because you don’t want to watch him pull out the needle from your skin.

The pricking sensation makes you wince. He murmurs an apology, leaning around you to set it aside and grab a band-aid. Spongebob themed. 

He looks tired. Exhausted, actually, and it doesn’t take a genius to conclude that he was awake previously, maybe this entire time and since it’s early in the morning (or late in the night, depending how you see it) he’s been awake this entire time. Probably the whole night if you hadn’t woken up now.

More than that… A butterfly bandage closes a cut on his forehead, the shadow of a bruise on his cheek. As he covers the prick from the needle with the band-aid, you glimpse his knuckles, red, swollen. 

Red.

Right.

Things come back to you in pieces. Walking to Sundollar. Then nothing. Waking up… wherever you were. The idiots you had for kidnappers. The idiots who were still prepared to kill you if they didn’t get the money — ransom — then something, someone going in there and… kicking ass, to be sure. 

And Tim…

“So, I didn’t hallucinate you as Red Robin.”

He lifts a hand to your face, then pauses suddenly, tired blue eyes flickering elsewhere as he mumbles, “May I? Just need to check your pulse.”

“You don’t need to ask.”

He lets out a deep breath and nods, cold fingers brushing your pulse. You wait, letting him do his thing. 

You barely realize you are out of your other clothes, the restricting material of your blouse and jeans, now dressed in a t-shirt and shorts. The kind you regularly wear. The thought of him doing it isn’t unsettling. Maybe it should be. Maybe it shouldn’t. All you know is, above anything else, you are glad it was him. 

Instead of answering your unspoken question, he asks a few of his own. Your name, where you are, your birthday, that sort of thing. Presumably for the large knot you can feel at the back of your head. 

You’re still tired. Exhausted, actually, and you want nothing more than for him to hold you to sleep, but you need answers first.

He rubs his eyes as he sits back and he finally says, “Yes. That… that was me. I didn’t expect…”

You’d sort of put it together. Well, put it together makes it sound like you gave it a lengthy amount of thought. It’s more like your brain heard his voice and assumed. The assumption happened to be entirely correct.

“Sorry.”

He blanches. “What? Why — why are you apologizing?”

“I… don’t know.” You really don’t. Sorry you found him out? Sorry this happened? No matter the reason, it just feels like the right thing to say. 

But the way Tim’s face crumples, pained, makes you think it very much wasn’t.

His hands reach for your face. They’re cold. Too cold. You want to take them in your own and warm them up.

“I’m sorry. I’m the one who needs to apologize. The guys were idiots and that’s a good thing but because it was so last-minute, we had no idea, it wasn’t on our radar — my radar. I should’ve known better.”

“It’s not your fault,” you say, frowning. “I don’t blame you for any of this, Tim.”

“You know what I do now,” he says quietly. “If only because of that, it is my fault.”

“You didn’t know. And I don’t blame you for that, for being human. Is anyone else blaming you?”

Anyone else being… Batman. The others.

“No,” he sighs.

You nod. “Exactly. No one could’ve known. If anything, I should be thanking you.”

He inhales sharply to protest but your eyes sting suddenly, breath stuttering.

“Stop it,” you say. “I… they were going to… if they didn’t…” You stop, vision blurring with tears and he shakes his head.

“It wouldn’t have happened, I wouldn’t have let it happen.”

But it hits you too hard, too fast, how close you were to death. Truly, this time. 

But one thing remains true.

He saved you.

And you think, as he whispers soft assurances and collects you into his arms, he is doing once again. Holding you together since you can’t do it yourself, patiently picking up the pieces as they fall. 

The topic is dropped for that and he pulls away briefly to shut out the light, then tugs you back into his arms as you two lay down together. 

You’re exhausted by the time your tears stop but you don’t want to give in quite yet. Mostly because the thought of Tim blaming himself bothers you a lot.

“I don’t blame you,” you whisper, sniffling. “Don’t you believe me?”

“I do,” he whispers back after a moment. “I just… I have to do better. I can’t —” his voice catches and he curls himself tighter around you, lips brushing the crown of your head. “I can’t lose you.”

You wonder if it’s your imagination, if it’s the exhaustion, that has you hearing an unspoken I can’t lose anyone else.

His parents, you know of. But surely he has lost others. If not strangers, the ones he couldn’t save, ones closer to him.

You hope you’re wrong. You hope he’s never gone through it. But with how tightly he holds you, the pain in his voice, the fear… you know he has.

Once again, you are hit with the monumental urge to protect him, to shield him from the pains and loss of life. You want it too much for him.

“You saved me,” you say quietly in the next moment. “I’m right here. I don’t blame you for anything. I’m not mad about anything, either. Not that it happened and not the… the Red Robin thing, either.”

Tim is quiet for a long moment. Almost long enough for you to think he’s gone to sleep, but the hand at your back, fingers grasping the material of your shirt, tightens slightly. 

“I was going to tell you,” he says at last. Hesitant. But urging, like he needs you to believe him, like he thinks you won’t.

Even after saying you aren’t mad, he still fears it. 

Your heart aches for him in that moment.

“It’s okay,” you murmur. “I understand. It’s… it’s a big secret that you can’t just give out easily. I know that. And I’m not mad. I believe you when you say you would’ve told me eventually. I guess… I guess my earlier apology was about that. That I ended up forcing your hand and I don’t want you to… feel obligated.”

The last part comes out unbidden. You tense. 

Tim takes a slow, measured breath. “Obligated how?”

You almost don’t want to answer.

But he doesn’t deserve that. 

“To stick around. I’ll keep your secret. I swear. No matter what happens.”

Quiet again. You don’t know how to take it.

But finally, he shifts back. “Do you not want to —”

“No! I do, I mean, I want to be with you, it’s just, down the line, I don’t know, or if you think it’s too much work since I’m not like you —”

“It’s because of that that I want you,” he breathes, pulling back to press his forehead to yours. “Exactly that.”

You let out a shuddery breath. “I want you, too. All of you, if I can have that. For as long as you’ll have me.”

One of his hands comes to your cheek, thumb stroking gently there. “Okay. Okay. We don’t have to stop this. I don’t want to. You’ll be in danger because of it, not just because of Tim Drake but Red Robin, too. If I was less selfish…”

The thought aches.

“Be selfish,” you whisper. “Because I don’t care.”

You know it’s true. Reckless, probably, but like you just said — you don’t care. How you feel, what you want… it outweighs everything else. Nothing is going to stop you because of it.

His breath catches and he pulls back, pressing his lips to your cheek. You grasp his wrist, holding on tightly.

Pulling away after a minute, he hugs you closer. You tuck your face into his neck, legs tangling beneath the blanket. 

Tim lets out a slow breath. “I love you.”

Your eyes sting. Your throat tightens painfully. “I love you.”

He shudders, lips pressing to your forehead. 

That’s why.

That’s why you don’t care about the danger. About the possibility of this happening again. You would rather have this than let it go. Anything else that happens because of it… it’s worth it.

It’s worth it.

Maybe one day, he’ll believe it.

But for now, this is enough.

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