#what do you mean tim drake doesn't die

[duckbills-and-waterfoul]

The day I think of Jarro and do not feel indescribable rage is the day that Tim Drake's plot armor finally fails

[eggfriedricedwasian]

Tim Drake probably got into fights at school, but he didn't start the fights, he'd finish them. He'd also get away scott free.

People think that they can ruin the Drake's name with their kid getting into fights and causing problems, but no. They encourage him to do these.

Janet had a firm stance in her belief to have the upper hand, so he'd never get in trouble, because she'd blackmail and/or grill into the principal so hard they had to let him go and give the other kid(s) punishment.

Jack had one solid rule, don't start a fight, finish it, and always win. He enforced it by having occasional spars with Tim whenever he could and signed Tim up for all kinds of martial arts to make sure he knew how to fight.

Janet signed him up for whatever else extracurriculars he wanted(ballet, gymnastics, theater, art, vocal coaching, instruments, figure skating, track, etc.).

So just imagine, Tim Drake, publicly known to get into and win so many fights but with no prior context is seen as a trouble maker till they see how well behaved he is. They talk badly about him though, how much of a bad kid little Tim Drake who physically looks like his father but has the face and acts exactly like Janet when he speaks and leads.

And then his parents die and he doesn't cry. They think he's an even horrible kid for not caring about his parents' death even though he's torn.

And then he becomes a Wayne and his reputation, which only Alfred and Bruce know, brings the Wayne name down.

And then he becomes CEO of Wayne Enterprises and everyone expects him to be just like Bruce. What they don't expect is Janet Drake 2.0 when it comes to getting his way and the way he acts or Jack Drake 2.0 with his outstanding leadership and ideas and proposals and what not.

When the rest of the Waynes find out about his reputation, they don't believe it till they see it for themselves.

It's probably at a gala or some sorts. A socialite is being inherently racist towards Damian and talking about how bad of a kid he is. Tim is not standing for it.

"Oh I'm sorry!" he says just a but too loudly to get the attention if everyone in the place, "Would you care to finish that vile comment about my brother? That he was a what now."

"I do, in fact. Perhaps after everyone hears this you Waynes will do better to control that little devil and his unnatural brow-"

The socialite doesn't even get to finish his sentence when Tim karate chops their neck, making them choke(literally) in their own words.

"Oh what was that? Did someone who is actively cheating on their own wife with the underage heir of another company be racist towards my underage and tri-racial brother? Sorry? Did a pedophile defiling the 15 year old daughter of the Miller's family say my 11 year old brother's skin was the sign of the devil? Hm?"

No one says a word, even as they watch Tim twist his words and spill out every secret and dirty fact about the socialite.

They don't even stop him as they watch him beat the crap out of the person with out even trying when said person tries to throw hands with Timothey Jackson Drake, publicly known for getting into fights and winning as well as being graduated from every martial arts class in Gotham ever.

Police were involved, headlines were made, the Miller heir was no longer seen in public and her younger sibling was pronounced heir, and Tim Drake, not Wayne, got off without a scratch, repercussion, or warning.

Damian has never felt an older siblings' loving protection more than he did when he saw Tim grill that socialite. He s never felt more respect for the guy before. And suddenly Dick was lower on the sibling scale.

He was lower on the sibling scale for everyone. Good by #1 sibling Dick Grayson and hello Tim Drake.

Have a problem? Someone's mean or is picking a fight? Don't worry, Tim Drake's there.

Drake is more noticeable than Wayne when it comes to Tim, and everyone finds it out the hard way.

[fenixfoxtrot510]

Jason: "oh! He put the heads in a duffle bag! How howible!" It's Always about the heads in the bag! Does anyone ever ask what they did to get their heads put in a bag? No! Maybe they deserved a little beheading!

Tim: Gee, Jay. What did they do deserve being capped in the knees, dragged to a warehouse and watch as one by one their fellow captives' heads being severved from their bodies alive waiting for their turn to die horribly next?

Jason: THEY WERE SELLING CHILDREN, TIM! CHILDREN!

Dick: I seem to remember you trying to murder a child before.

Damian: If you mean Drake, He doesn't count. He's more like a cockroach than a person.

Tim: Fuck you too!

Jason: You are kinda impossible to kill like a cockroach, Timmy.

[deadsetobsessions]

Your name is Tim Drake and you are nine years old.

Today, tomorrow, and soon, you're going to save Robin.

----

Tim stares at his reflection on the sink tap. It trembles, along with the plane, as he contemplates his situation.

His face is rounder, now, with unfamiliar baby-fat rounding out the sharp lines he'd come to expect. Even with the subpar reflection, Tim can tell that his dark eyebags are all but gone, replaced with youthful skin.

Magic. He's being quite literal, seeing as he's been tossed into the body of his younger self at the hands of a crazed magician.

He could find a way back... or he could create a completely different timeline by fixing everything that went wrong. It's not like he has anything to go back to, anyways. That crazed magician was actually competent and killed everyone he ever cared about. Tim barely got away with his life. He could go back to save that shell of a world- surrounded by people whose minds were broken beyond magical and medical repair- or stay here, fix his own personal troubles and cut off the magician before he could start with his world domination bullshit.

Well, Tim already has an idea of what he wants. So he begins a list, after having oriented himself.

Save Robin

There's no point trying to convince Bruce that he knows where Jason's being held. So, Tim finds himself on a plane to Ethiopia a day before Jason's meant to die. This was long before Barbara even thought of being Oracle, and the tech is ancient in his hands. In short order, nine year old Tim has a trust fund with millions in it, all siphoned from billionaires like Lex Luthor and his own parents.

Tim toddles back to his seat, after washing his hands because he still can't shake the extra bit of paranoia that came with a missing spleen. Oh. Tim blinks guilelessly at his seat neighbor, smiling like Timothy Drake, Angel of a Son as he reels from the realization that he still has his spleen.

Tim adds another box to his list:

Keep Ra's away from my spleen, creepy bastard.

What else...? Ah, the League of Assassins.

Damian

Tim pauses. Holy crap. Damian's only six right now. Tim moves Damian's box upwards in urgency. Tim might have a mildly antagonistic relationship with his younger brother back then, but he wants baby pictures of his siblings, dammit. He's gonna put that photography expertise to good use if it's the last thing he does.

Watch over Z, Owens, Pru

'They're alive!' His mind screams. Cold rationality slaps the sentimentality down with a quick 'But they won't be if I fail.'

His mind wanders to Dick Grayson. He scowls as something pops up in the back of his head.

Catalina Flores

Contact Nightwing- in space

He's gotta call Dick back from that Teen Titans mission, Jason's gonna need all of the support he's going to get.

Find Cass

Train Steph

Save Duke's family from Venom

Tim taps at that last point. He'll save them. But that might mean Duke might never join their family.

But he'll be happy and Tim... will deal with it. He'll be the only one mourning, anyways. To end on a lighter note, he adds something that he should have done ages ago.

Give Tam a raise.

Tim sighs as he gets out of the airport, the hired escort he found and vetted, delivering him to a predetermined hotel. They think his parents are already inside. He laughs and does not say anything to make them think otherwise. He has so many things to do, Tim laments as he settles down to track the Joker's movements. Here. That's where Jason's being held. Being tortured.

He can, however, knock two things off his list in one go. Tim picks up the burner phone he acquired. He doesn't have time, or else he would have done this sooner and saved them all the trouble.

[RR: Are you in Ethiopia yet?]

[Deathstroke: Payment confirmed. In Ethiopia.]

[RR: Third building by the docks.]

An hour.

[Deathstroke: Confirmed. Target spotted.]

Ten minutes.

[Deathstroke: Target eliminated. Bringing Robin to Safehouse.]

Twenty minutes.

[Deathstroke: Basic first aid applied. Leaving.]

[RR: Secondary payment sent. Confirm?]

[Deathstroke: Confirmed. Pleasure doing business with you.]

Tim sprawls on the king bed. He sighs a breath of relief. He'd check on Jason in person, if he weren't paranoid about leaving traces that would get back to him. Tim's pretty sure that Deathstroke's going to get hunted down in the near future, regardless, so he made sure to add a huge tip on top of the extra fees for burning one of Deathstroke's safe houses and the emergency first aid. He taps into the rudimentary camera Deathstroke had given him the access codes to, to stare at Jason's rising and falling chest. On a further table, the Joker's head laid in a preservation box.

He bypasses all of the security on the Teen Titan's tech to send Dick a message.

[Robin has been retrieved from the Joker. Contact Batman for details.]

Then, he sends Bruce the location of the safe house. Tim spends the rest of the day staring at Jason and watching his father in another timeline break as he huddles close to the broken body of Tim's Robin.

Timothy Drake destroys the burner phone.

[mysticlael]

God, y'all like these <_< >_>

Dick: *Kicks the door open, looking panicked* Bruce: What did you do? Jason: NOBODY DIED! Bruce: WHAT KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT?!

Tim: Dear Diary, my teen angst bullshit has a body count.

Bruce: I hate to say ‘I told you so’— Jason: No, you don’t. You would marry 'I told you so’ and have a baby with it and buy adjoining burial plots.

Damian: I hate you with every inch of my body! Jason, looking down: That’s not a lot of inches.

Steph: My bad, It’s a knee jerk response. Dick, holding Tim's unconscious body: WHOSE KNEE JERK RESPONSE IS TO START THROWING BRICKS AT SOMEONE???

Robin!Tim: He called me the B-word. Jason: Motherfucker doesn’t start with ‘b’!

*after the Squad's plan goes horribly wrong* Bruce: Now it seems we're back at square one-- finding Jason. Tim: For the record, I already found him. Dick: And you let him get away before we could have a meaningful conversation! I'm telling you, just let me try- Tim: He stabbed me! Damian: I'm surprised he waited this long, Drake. We've all had the urge.

Pre-adoption Jason: I am very small and I have no money, so you can imagine the kind of stress that I'm under.

Roy: I'm so happy, I could kiss you! Jason: Um...Neat. *later* Jason, lying face down on his bed: I said "Neat," Dick. Who the fuck says neat these days? It's not neat to say neat but I said it anyways because I'm fucking stupid. Dick, upside down on the bed: Don't beat yourself up too much, Little Wing. Everyone gets nervous sometimes. Remember what I did when Wally confessed his love for me? Jason: ...Didn't you thank them? Dick: *swings up* I fucking thanked him.

Steph: Synonyms are weird because if you invite someone to your cottage in the forest, that just sounds nice and cozy. But if I invite you to my cabin in the woods you’re going to die. Tim: My favorite is explaining the difference between a butt dial and a booty call. Bruce: It’s called connotations. Jason: Try this one on for size, “Forgive me, Father, I have sinned” vs “Sorry, Daddy, I’ve been naughty." Dick: Great news! Language is now banned!

Dick: What does “baka” mean? Tim: Moron. Steph: Idiot. Duke: Stupid. Dick: The fuck did I do?!

Bruce: In the past year you have managed to piss off the LAPD, ATF, CIA, FBI- Jason: NBA. Bruce: …? Jason: Snuck into a Cliffords game.

Tim: Oh god, he texted you ‘hi.’’ punctuation only means one thing, Dick... He's mad at you. Dick: No, it's Jay. He's just being grammatically correct! *meanwhile* Jason: And then I used a period so they'd know that I'm mad at him. Roy: A period doesn't say 'I'm mad', it says 'you're dead to me'. Jason: I stand by my choice.

[batbux]

It's forty minutes into the latest state of the company press conference and Bruce has had to mute his mic entirely to avoid being turned into a meme AGAIN for sighing too much at his own event. For all that he's spent almost 20 years coaching his own children on not making scenes, he's really not much better. It's hot and he doesn't want to be here. His ribs hurt. He's tired. He's hungry. He's every excuse Dick or Jason have trotted out over the years.

(Tim understands company manners and can almost always be trusted to stick it out as long as he's allowed to vent his frustrations afterwards. He's recently taken to smashing ugly thrifted dishes. Stephanie and Damian have been collecting any ceramic not entirely pulverized and turning them into pavers for Alfred's garden.)

(Bruce gave up after Tim. He really only needs one kid to tag along to social events. If the kid start to outnumber him they start getting IDEAS.)

His distraction is why it takes two very rude repetitions of his name for him to take notice at the young reporter pushing his way to the front. Lucius stands, cutting off the project manager currently presenting and speaks into the mic.

"Please keep hold all questions until the end of the presentation, thank you."

"Mr. Wayne," the reporter tries again and Bruce waves away Lucius's further protests.

"Can I help you?" He asks, smiling with the full force of Brucie Wayne's charm behind it. It's been awhile since his last scandal, but if the press is inventing drama then it's less work for him.

The man holds up a photograph almost accusingly. He reeks of gotcha journalism.

Bruce squints towards him, unable to fully make out the contents of the photo. Dick may have been right when he gently suggested Bruce add glasses to his Brucie Wayne persona but that was a hill Bruce was still willing to die on. It was bad enough he had to have a prescription COWL.

"What do you have to say about the presence of your adopted son, Timothy Drake at the illegal mob in Robinson Park last Saturday?"

"Drake-Wayne," Bruce corrected because Tim hyphenated, damn it. He was the first of his children to let Bruce tag the Wayne name on and it mattered, damn it. "Wait do you mean-"

"How about reports of him kissing a man while there?"

"A blond man?" Bruce asked, finally giving up and crossing to take the photo for himself. "Oh. No, that's his boyfriend."

There was a beat of silence before Bruce realized his mistake. Just as the reporters began to squall, he dropped the blurry photo and began to speed walk off, phone suddenly in hand.

Through the podium's microphone, the gathered reporters heard one thing as Bruce evacuated the immediate vicinity.

"Tim? Don't be mad."

---

Despite Bruce's best efforts, he becomes a meme.

---

Immediately following the bombshell that Timothy Drake-Wayne had a boyfriend, social media blows up, clamoring for more information. They're ravenous for it, desperate. Tim doesn't have a personal social media presence but they stalk his professional accounts religiously. Bruce does have personal social media, but he maintains radio silence.

In the end, a Gotham based "influencer" stumbles across Dick Grayson and Damian Wayne getting donuts at Kosher Donuts and Co. Dick is personable, as always, and stops to speak with the young woman briefly.

"Yeah, Tim wasn't mad," he laughs when asked. "Just disappointed. But man, he knows how to milk it."

"Bruce is in the doghouse, huh?" she asks, full of false sympathy.

"A little bit," Dick says as Damian mumbles, "Titus would never share."

"But," Dick continued. "Tim's spun it so Bruce is on the hook for like, half a million in donations for local LGBT charities. Tim says it would hurt less if he sponsored a new shelter too, so that's something to look forward to."

"That's a lot of money! Where's it all going?"

"Oh you know," Dick says and gestures vaguely. "A lot of different programs."

"Yeah? Anything you personally want to see done with the funding?"

"Drag story time," Damian answers before Dick can. He looks intense. "But not for children. For dogs. In the shelter."

---

A day later, Tim breaks the silence. He goes live on Bruce's Instagram.

"So the problem was that Bruce thought the reporter was saying I was being unfaithful," Tim explains. "He totally forgot I wasn't out to everyone yet. Bruce was just worried because he's already told me if I break up with my boyfriend, he's not uninviting him from any future family events."

"Luckily, I was in fact just kissing my boyfriend at PRIDE. Just because people got shifty with the permits at the last second because of protestors doesn't make it an illegal mob. If you wanna hear about Wayne's and illegal mobs, talk to Dickie about his younger years. Nothing I do can compare."

[brucewaynehater101]

That Wingless Wing AU, I’m guessing that it’s probably like a 25-75 of whether people have wings or not? Because otherwise Jack and Janet wouldn’t hate the idea of wings, because they’d be normal, expected.

Anyway, what would the wings look like? Would they be regular bird wings? Angel wings? Bat wings? Dragon or devil wings? Any and all combinations? What do you think everyone’s wings would look like, and is there any meaning behind them?

Also, if the Joker removed Tim’s wings, I can only guess that it would leave a NASTY couple of scars. It would be easy enough to hide them… at least until Tim gets injured. How do the Batfam react when they realize what happened?

Finally, you specifically used the word “hybrid” to refer to winged people. Does that mean they have other instincts/characteristics, and are there other types of hybrids?

(Sorry it’s such a long ask!)

Og post for anyone who wants to check it out!

Fantastic questions! Let's get into it ^^

I didn't think about specifics for winged/hybrid population distribution, but it would be on the lower side. Less than 50%, but you could play the Drakes' attitude as a common sentiment of rich folk (something about dehumanization, lack of rights, history, increased prevalence of hybrids, etc).

In Gotham, the social attitude about hybrids is better. The Waynes are famous for their wings, after all, and Martha Wayne had gorgeous wing decorations/jewelry.

As far as wing type, it depends on how far you want the AU to go. For this one specifically, it's simpler for there to only be winged hybrids. This still opens the AU for tons of exploration on the types of wings each person has (although, I'm curious if Penguin is a hybrid and how that works).

Overall, their instincts/needs/behaviors are similar. There may be some small distinctions (like wing type care or personality), but they all desire connection, a nest (both in a metaphorical "home" sense and a physical cuddling space), helping their loves ones, preening, and calls/coos/vocal stuff (not all of them are birds). Add more if you'd like!

Dick's wings are colorful. He's also more vocal and cuddly. He's often cooing and being physically affectionate with others (such as rubbing his face against someone else like some birds do).

Jason's were white. Because of his inability to take care of them, they were grey/dirty and wilted at first. If you want to hc the Lazarus Pits gave him his wings back, then they came back black (like a crow or raven).

Oof.... So I know I said Joker saw Tim as a bird with his wings... But I really love the idea of Tim having dragon wings. They had holes and were shriveled due to his constant disuse and the amulet. The wings he makes for Robin are mechanical bird ones, but he does miss his own wings.

Cass isn't a hybrid, but she does understand the others' instincts. She gets eerily good at mimicking different calls and will be first to drag someone into the nest.

Steph has gorgeous bird wings that are one vibrant color. Purple sounds like a cop out, so maybe a midnight blue or deep pastel yellow.

Damian and all of the al Ghuls have bat wings. Bruce, on the other hand, has red wings that he uses black temp die for patrols.

Jim Gordon doesn't have wings. He would not have made it to Commissioner if he did (anti-hybrid sentiment has gotten better, but not enough). I can't decide if Barbara should have wings or not. Either way, she can't use them when she becomes paralyzed :(

Duke's wings are either orange or yellow with cool black highlights and patterns to them ^^

Alfred is not a hybrid, but he was in a thruple with Martha and Thomas Wayne. He helped them with their preening and helped Bruce (and later all the batkids) as well

I could give all of them specific meanings behind their wings/what animal they are closest to, but not now. Instead! Let's get into Tim's scars.

TW: wing removal, torture, JJ

The Joker was not kind nor careful about the removal. The pain and gore were as much the point as the removal themselves. Tim still wakes up choking on his breath over the feeling of his wings being removed. The physical pain, emotional, and hybrid instinct hell were brutal for the kid.

The scars were gnarly, but his parents paid for treatments to lessen how much they etched into Tim's skin. By the end, they were a bit thinner and paler. They were still very visible but not as painful to look at.

For humor and angst sake, let's say the batfam learns about Tim's missing spleen. He shows off the scar and shrugs.

The others are having a reasonable breakdown over Tim losing his spleen when one of them asks, "Have you lost any more body parts?"

Tim pauses too long.

The Bats freak out some more.

[haleswallows]

coming at you live, with a news series.... Promises, Promises

Part 1: Cross My Heart (Hope to Die) Fandom: DC x DP Crossover Pairing: Dead Tired (Danny Fenton/Tim Drake) Rating: Teen

Teaser:

"Are you really doing the 'FBI, this is our case now' shtick? What are you, a cop?"

Phantom makes a retching sound. "Sorry, reflex. Any sort of implication I'm government adjacent, can't help it."

"You know being Justice League makes you government adjacent," Red Robin helpfully points out. He weighs a net-launcher in his hand. "If not affiliated with the UN, the League works with the organization often to be called an ally."

"Not me," Phantom says with cheer, pushing a narrow cylinder towards him. "That's essentially a light saber, by the way. Nah, they keep me pretty far from the UN shit. I'm not built for it. I'm there to hit things real hard and share tech."

A light saber? Hell yeah. Tim grabs it and wonders if he can keep it.

"Can I keep it?" he blurts out, because why not?

Shrugging, Phantom says, "Sure, I have like five more. This one is green, but I think I can change the color. Red would match your like —," he waves expansively at Red Robin, "Vibes and aesthetic. Very cool branding, by the way. The cape is dope."

Huh. Tim didn't expect the compliment. He chooses to ignore it, mostly because he just doesn't know what to say in response. 'Thanks, I like your cyber-gothic vibes too'?

"Green's fine, I always wanted to be a Jedi." A red light saber would infinitely more on brand, but Tim would never consider being a Sith. Wait, absolutes. Shit.

It fits perfectly next to his bo staff on his bandoleer. Which, sick and feels like a divine happenstance, as if Red Robin was meant to have the energy blade. He helps Phantom reload the bag, though the ghost keeps the thermos out before pushing the entire duffle back inside his chest.

God, that's even weirder up close. Tim examines Phantom's torso, mind spinning through possibilities on how it works.

"Alright," Phantom's voice breaks his concentration, Red Robin snapping to attention. A truly feral grin spreads across Phantom's face as he lifts into the air, hair swirling and catching the last dredges of sunlight. "Let's go ghost hunting."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

They're wrapping up in one of Tim's more 'civilian' passing safe-houses. Mostly because it was the closest, and Phantom said something about 'ley lines' and 'easier to open a portal'. Cool, whatever. Tim wanted to burn this safe-house soon anyway.

Tim, as always, gets himself into trouble. Chronic Thinking Too Much Disease, they really ought to make a cure for it. He reflects, paused in the middle of writing the report and watching Phantom eat Cheerios right out of the box. Phantom perches on the counter, looking like he belongs there, shoveling cereal into his mouth with the relic sitting innocently at his hip.

When the fuck did Tim get Cheerios?

There's no denying it. Tim likes working with Phantom. The guy is good in a fight, doesn't rely on his powers too much, and kept up with Tim. Not just physically, but intellectually. And he's shockingly earnest when he isn't being a trash-talking little shit.

So. Tim gets an idea.

"Hey," he says before he's even thoroughly thought it out, "we should date."

Phantom pauses, gloved hand suspended in the middle of shoving another handful of cereal into his mouth, wide eyed and gaping. Attractive.

"Huh?" he says eloquently.

"Not for real," Tim scrambles to explain. "I mean fake dating. Just hang around some, be a bit performative, nothing out of masks. We can say we're taking things slow and break up amicably. Nightwing keeps trying to set me up with a date. This will get him off my case."

"Oooooh." Phantom resumes inhaling cereal. Why a ghost needs to eat, Tim would like to know, but it's probably rude to ask. Slowly chewing, Phantom seriously thinks it over. "You know, the council has been bugging me, too. About dating. This could work out for both of us."

Council? Tim would like to know why a council is interested in Phantom dating. So he asks.

Phantom sighs explosively. Finally, he sets the Cheerios down. "OK, so like, this is need to know basis only. I haven't even disclosed it to the League. And like, Nightwing only knows because he's my friend and the Observants crashed one of our missions and outed me. Hard to lie about why a floating eyeball showed up to demand I actually show up to the next council meeting, instead of blowing them all off again to play heroes with my living friend."

Pulling a face, Phantom waves an arm in an arc over his head. A crown appears, spinning and shooting off beams of light like an Aurora Borealis.

Tim doesn't gape, because Red Robin doesn't gape. But, you know, that's unexpected.

"I'm the Ghost King. It's a whole thing, no I am not taking questions on it at this time. Well, technically, I'm the Prince of the Infinite Realms because I'm too young to take the throne. So, there's a council and a regent. Whatever, not important!"

Phantom claps, getting himself back on track. "What that means is there's a council and Observants that are really interested in my personal shit. Including who I date. But like, I'm enjoying my brat girl summer and being single right now, not that they care."

Tim blinks. Then blinks again, slotting the new information in place alongside everything he knows about Phantom. That's... something.

"That sounds annoying," Tim says, instead of one of the approximately 23 questions in his head that are quickly spawning more by the second. "Fake dating would solve both of our problems."

Because Tim is a professional, they make a contract.

Phantom watches with great interest as Tim bustles around the apartment, setting up shop at the kitchen table. He doesn't think he's ever actually sat at this table. Mostly, he's used this apartment to sleep, a crash-out spot that has a nicer bed and isn't as sparse as the other Bat-affiliated safe houses.

As soon as Tim sits, stretching out his wrists, Phantom kicks off from the counter to hover around Tim's shoulders. The box of Cheerios balances precariously on the ghost's stomach. Tim eyes it briefly. Then sets to it.

"So, uh," Phantom starts, arms folded behind his head. "How casual is 'casual'?" Under the weight of Tim's judging eyebrows, Phantom defends himself. "I'm just asking! Like, how far are we both willing to go to sell it? Are we exclusive? Facebook official?"

"Facebook official," Tim echoes, typing. "Christ, is anyone Facebook official? Do ghosts have Facebook?"

"I don't know, I could get one. If, like, you think it'd help." Absurd, this entire thing is absurd. But they're here and committed to the bit. Or committing to the bit. There's 'selling it', and then there's…. whatever Phantom is saying. Facebook, what year is it?

"Red Robin doesn't have a Facebook, and I refuse to make one." Tim barely manages to keep from sounding snide.

"I won't mog on you referring to yourself in the person, even though I'm really tempted." How gracious. "Alright, so just. Seeing each other, feeling it out, not seeing other people."

[inkpotsprite]

I came up with this AU a while back - probably a few months after I stumbled into this fandom - and it's been bouncing around in my head for a while. (Excuse the scatterbrained nature of this post, I'm just writing my thoughts as they come)

Tim Drake meets Peter Pan (OUAT edition)

I mean, he's the perfect candidate for a lost boy. Neglected, lonely and will probably become scarily loyal to the first person who offers him a way out of that. Not to mention, he's smart, has loose morals (I mean, he did stalk and blackmail Batman) and can be a little ruthless at times, he'd be Peter's right hand man in no time.

So, he lives as a lost boy for a while, but finds Peter's ways of doing things too dark or cruel and, being the baby genius he is, escaped from Neverland, back to Gotham.

But also, we could combine this concept with the Tim joins the family early trope. Like, he goes to Neverland a couple of times, but also starts connecting with the Waynes, so that could be part of the reason he's able to let go of that loyalty to Peter, because he's got something better waiting for him. He never tells the Wayne's about his time in Neverland, worrying that they'll see him differently due to the morally grey things he did there as Peter's right hand man. Tim deals with quite a bit of imposter syndrome and insecurity, but ultimately, he's more happy than not.

Then, a few years later, Damian comes in and is all, well, Damian about things which makes things take a bad turn for Tim. The family is bad at balance/communication and Tim "Abandonment Issues" Drake is a very unreliable narrator at times, so it's angst galore. Then Peter turns up again.

Tim goes with him to Neverland, this time with the intention of staying forever.

Or, we could go another route and look into Damian, a kid whose whole life had been uprooted as he's sent to live with a father he's never met and with a family with vastly different dynamics to what he's used to. He's not neglected, but he's certainly lonely. Especially when being held up to expectations and moral standards that he finds impossible to comprehend after being raised by Talia and Ra's.

So Peter comes back, but he takes Damian instead, as a way to lure Tim back to Neverland. And, even if he doesn't like Damian much right now, of course Tim will go after him because that's his little brother and no way in hell is he letting Peter take him.

We could even sprinkle in a little backstory about Peter knowing Bruce from when Bruce was a kid, after his parents died. Now, two of Bruce's sons are missing and he has to find a way to Neverland.

That's where Jason comes in. Jason Todd, the ultimate lost boy who never was. Not for lack of trying. Peter's shadow swooped down to get him when he was living on the streets, but Jay isn't some naive kid, he's a Gothamite, a Crime Alley kid and he knows that if someone - even that someone is a creepy shadow person - grabs you and tries to get you to a secondary location, you fucking fight it with all you have. So, Jason never makes it to Neverland. Instead, he fights so hard that the shadow drops him, right onto Captain Hook - Killian Jones' - ship. They bond, Killian teaches Jason the ropes, but Jason ultimately decides to go back to Gotham for whatever reason (maybe Killian messes up or Jason's trust issues get the better of him) and he leaves.

We could also play around with parallels between Bruce and Peter. Both taking in lost, lonely kids that no one else wants, having them fight battles, Peter could even hit Bruce with that 'at least my boys will never die' as if forcing them to live forever in eternal stagnation is so much better.

While in Neverland together, Tim and Damian start to bond over their feelings of never truly belonging anywhere. That they'll be forever defined by what they did over who they are. As they grow closer, Tim reassures Damian that he will always belong with him, to give him the chance to prove it.

Meanwhile, Bruce, Dick and Jason are on their way to Neverland. And Peter is ready to start playing the game.

... And that's all I've got so far.

[arandomao3user]

As an Ao3 author, I love giving headcanons that'd probably anger a certain side of the Batman fandom, but I personally don't care because it makes great angst and, again, I'm an Ao3 author and chronically ill!

First up! Dick Grayson, I like the idea of him having ADHD, of course, BUT... joint hypermobility syndrome.

(Joint Hypermobility Syndrome: Joint hypermobility syndrome is a connective tissue disorder. Thick bands of tissue (ligaments) hold your joints together and keep them from moving too much or too far out of range. In people with joint hypermobility syndrome, those ligaments are loose or weak. If you have joints that are more flexible than normal and it causes you pain, you may have joint hypermobility syndrome.)

Chronic pain fits him, don't ask, because as the eldest child with chronic pain and hypermobiltiy syndrome, trust, he has that look in his eye that he's been walking on swollen knees for the past twelve hours, had three mental breakdowns, and is still pushing through because SOMEBODY has to deal with this bull.

That's also the reason he wears freakin' spandex-- only, it's for compression! He wears compression items to help with swelling and pain TRUST, and let me have this because the math maths (it probably doesn't, but let me have this.)

He's got chronic fatigue, he's gotten used to popping dislocated joints back into place, Bruce was so confused how he dislocated and sprained so many bones so quickly when out as Robin. It's genetic, of course, Bruce finds. But he has money, and Dick powers through it all! Till he develops arthritis in his early thirties/ late twenties and actually hates everything because WHAT AND WHY--

---

Next up! JASON TODD! I have no proof, evidence, and it doesn't have to make sense but I like giving him asthma sometimes for the angst potential of if he didn't have it, he wouldn't have died in the explosion.

He didn't die from said explosion, nor JUST the smoke inhalation, but because he had an asthma attack, on the ground, bones broken, unable to breath because his inhaler did NOT survive the blast, if he even had it on him.

And that's why he wears helmet with so, so many filters in it now...

Also, being a street kid who struggles to even get his medication that keeps him alive? Peak angst, being to poor to afford your medication because the American healthcare system is actually trashy garbage.

R.I.P. Jason Todd, you would've loved clean air--

---

ANEMIC TIM DRAKE! But I up you, Tim Drake with Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (POTS)

(POTS: Postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome (POTS) is a condition that causes your heart to beat faster than normal when you transition from sitting or lying down to standing up. It’s a type of orthostatic intolerance.)

Read ONE SINGLE FIC/ SERIES with this and I've loved it since because what do you mean he randomly falls asleep anywhere? No, forget your canon, he passed out and people think he just fell asleep... NOpe, he passed out, sorry random lady he was on a date with!

(The majority of people are AFAM but we aren't ready for my trans Tim headcanons yet either.)

(You’re at a higher risk of developing POTS after experiencing the following stressors:

Significant illnesses, such as viral illnesses like mononucleosis or serious infections.

Physical trauma, such as a head injury.)

Ngl, my dude gets a LOT of physical trauma (and mental--) also, losing a spleen? Surgery and at risk of viral illnesses? I'm sorry, but I need him to suffer more because I like when Tim Drake suffers horribly.

Now, despite having this condition, I am no expert, but also his caffiene/ energy drink addiction is from chronic fatigue, he shouldn't drink it, it's not healthy or good for him, but he stopped caring between the spleen loss and whatever the "Drake" run he did was because what even was that name?--

---

Damian is autistic and I will DIE ON THAT HILL--

No, I won't explain and you can't make me.

---

[martyrsex]

Jason Todd x Singer reader (fem)

Author's note: I received such a surprisingly positive reply from this! I haven't posted in months, so this caught me off guard completely. (Yes 15 notes is good for me lmao 🥹) In this version, Jason knows who reader are since the beginning. I thought it'd be more fun.

So, basically this a longer version of the first part + a second part. I intend to write this in chapters. Enjoy and please give me your thoughts ❤️

Part two:

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

Jason Todd knew one thing or two about twitter. Or X, whatever. The thing is: he's at least three times a month in the trending topics. Not him exactly, but Red Hood. Red Hood is always there.

It goes from people hating on him, to young girls (psycho's in his opinion) calling him babygirl or daddy. He doesn't understands and he doesn't want to. He's not much one from social media, so when he is on the trending topics, normally someone from the family teases him about it.

This time is no different. Dick Grayson and Tim Drake are laughing way too hard. Looking from Tim's phone directly towards Jason. He sighs, closing the book he is reading. Currently they are all comfortably sitting on the library, eating Alfred's cookies and tea.

"What is it?" Jason asks, already regretting the question.

"Open twitter." Tim says, a huge smile on his face. Jason feels a chill down his spine because he knows it's going to be bad. Not that he cares. He doesn't give a shit about public's opinion.

But sometimes the comments about him, the mean comments wishing him to die... Those get to him. So he's prepared for that. For people hating, or for his fangirls fighting deciding who'd be his next imaginary girlfriend.

But he never expected to be shipped with someone else. He knows who you are. Everybody knows who you are. A talented young singer, that ascended till the top in less than three years. Doing some works on modeling from time to time for McQueen or Vogue or Versace, because you're that beautiful.

He wouldn't call himself a fan, but he does think you are musically talented. Anyway, everyone is shipping him with you.

And he doesn't know why.

"Why am I being shipped with her?" He asks, out loud. Before Dick or Tim can answer, Steph bursts into the library's door laughing.

"Jason-"

"I know."

She laughs again. He starts to scroll down the comments, until he finds a video of a live interview you did on Kurt's show, that prick. The journalist is famous for doing weird questions.

"So, everybody knows you have a bit of thing for vigilantism. How did that start?" Kurt asks, crossing his arms and giving the public a charming smile.

"Oh, it started with Batman, of course. I was a little kid when I heard the stories about the man that haunted the nights in Gotham. I am a L.A girl, but either way I absolutely felt enchanted. It's just so cool that is there someone out there that takes justice in their own hands."

Yeah, right. She's a fan of the Batass. Jason scoffs while watching the video, but continues anyway.

"And who is your favorite vigilante?" Kurt asked, leaning closer to her. He was a charming man, young and successful, just like her.

"Oh, Red Hood, definitely." She says that without a hint of sarcasm in her voice. Just a plain, simple answer.

"Red Hood? Isn't he a bit... extreme?" Kurt said, tilting his head.

"I think he is doing good in his own ways, and that is so freaking cool, you know? And I think his motorcycle is super... uh, how can I say? Hot." She says, and gives the public a little giggle. She continues:

"Which doesn't mean I agree with everything he does. But I find his persona interesting and refreshing. He's different from the rest, different approaches and all. It makes me curious about who is the man behind the mask."

"If you could say anything to him, what would you say?" Kurt asks, smiling.

"Oh! I'd probably ask him to take me on a ride with his bike. And to get a girlfriend. I think he needs a feminine touch in his life." She answers, with an amused grin.

The video ends and Jason doesn't really know what to think. You just said he needed a girlfriend. A feminine touch.

The truth is, he can't really disagree. When was the last time he felt a woman's body close to his? More time than he wants to admit. Months. Maybe more than a year. In his defense, it's not that he doesn't have the game. He just don't have the energy to play it.

Steph laughs takes him out of his wandering thoughts. He looks up at his siblings, an irritated expression in his face.

"Read the tweets, the tweets are the best part!" She says, chuckling again. Jason goes straight to the shipping hashtag. People saying they want to be Jason, people saying they want to be you, people saying they want to be the bed where you both - forget it.

He sighs and throws his cellphone on the couch, sitting back and beginning to read his book.

"That's it? That's your reaction?" Dick asks, tilting his head like a curious dog.

"It's just a bunch of tweets. People will forget eventually. Nothing I should worry about." Jason replies, not taking his eyes off The Catcher in the Rye.

Little did he know.

__________________________________________________

Okay. Maybe you shouldn't have said that. Maybe you were dumb and reckless. And now your agent and her team are almost killing you.

It's not your fault. You were always told to be honest, because your fun and outgoing (at least on stage) personality were one of your best traits.

"Are you crazy! This could have led to terrible repercussions. What if everyone focused on the fact that you support a murderer?!" Claya, your agent says, almost shouting.

"Well, they didn't. Now they are just shipping him with me." You say, trying to defend yourself. The truth is, behind the cameras and the stage and all the "popstar" persona you have to pull out, you are an introvert. You have two lifes.

"Yeah, and you should be grateful for it. This can even be a good sign. It seems people are interested in your love life. We can use that for our advantage." Claya says.

You adore her, really. And it's her job to figure it out how to make your career ascend. And she does it very well. But sometimes you just wish it wouldn't be about money or status. It would be just about how to do good music.

Anyway, you don't want to be ungrateful. You're living your childhood dream. So you take those thoughts out of your mind.

"Well, what do you have in mind?" You ask, blinking in confusion.

"We're going to Gotham. You're going to do a show there." Claya says, confidently and typing on her computer.

"Are you out of your mind? Shows in Gotham always go wrong. The Chase Atlantic show from last month was attacked by Pyg!" You say, trying to contain your agent's wicked ideas.

"Honey, don't worry. Maybe Red Hood appears in to save the whole ordeal. It couldn't be better." Claya says, standing up and closing her computer.

Claya and the team leave you alone to think. It's not like you have a lot of choice in the matter, anyway. If she says you're doing the show, you gotta do it.

But it's just a show, right? Nothing to worry about.

Little did you know.

[amaramizuki666]

identity crisis part.3

   ‘tim’ felt safe, he felt warmth surrounding him. he didn't understand, was he dead, he doesn't feel dead. ‘tim’ opened his eyes to find himself in a fluffy bed.

He sat up swiftly in a panic, his hand flying to his shoulder. 'Tim' hissed under his breath as he felt his bandaged up shoulder.

"Good your up" a guy around 'Tim's' age spoke as he walked into the room. 'Tim' snapped his attention to the guy. His eyes glowed Lazarus green and what should have been the whites where black, his skin a pale green, his hair snow white and wispy.

He had long pointed ears and sharp fangs. He was wearing a sorta black jumpsuit with a white D on the chest. He also had a cape that looked to be made of stars.

Above his head was a crown made of aroura and a ring of light on his middle finger. 'Tim' couldnt help but stare, the man before him was incredibly handsome. "Um where am I? Did I die? Who are you?" 'Tim' spoke. The man walked over to 'Tim's' bedside.

"Firstly your basically in the ghost equivalent of a hospital, two no your not dead, and three my name is phantom, but you can call me Danny if you wish" the guy-Danny says with a gentle smile. 'Tim looked him in the eyes "if I'm not dead then why am I in a ghost hospital?".

Danny let out an amused hum "well before I answer that can you tell me what you remeber?".

'Tim' tore his gaze away from Danny's, he is unsure if it's safe to say anything about himself or what happened.

Danny saw 'Tim's rejection to the question and sighed. "how about I tell you what I know" Danny says and sits on the bed.

'Tim's eyes drifted back to danny. "I found you in green glowing goo, with a bullet hole in your shoulder and a stab wound in your gut" danny says and 'tim' felt is body go rigid in realization.

'Tim' pushed himself slightly away from danny "how did you get my body from the Lazarus pits? I know I should have sunk to the bottom". Danny snorted "you summoned me that's how".

'Tim' tilted his head and arched his eyebrow "summoned? What do you mean? Whst are you?". 'Tim' couldnt help being inquisitive, he may not be the Tim but he still had his originals memories.

Danny smirked at 'Tim' flashing his fangs. The man grabbed 'Tim's' hand and brought it to his lips, laying a gentle kiss on his knuckles.

Danny's lips where cold, but not in an uncomfortable way, but in s way that felt pleasing. "Well my dear, let me properly introduce myself. I am danny phantom king of the infinity realms, the balance between life and death, and holder of the stars. And you summoned me with the offering of the blood of a hero and made a deal with me to save your life" danny says.

"Deal" 'tim' inquired. Danny smirked and leaned in close to 'tim' "yes in exchange for saveing your life you would be mine". 'Tim' leaned closer to danny till their noses touched "in what way am I yours".

Danny pulled back and tilted his head, far more than any human could. And smirked at tim flashing his fangs " in what ways do you want to be mine". 'Tim' laughed awkwardly and joked "when's the wedding". "In 3 days" Danny answered without hesitation.

'Tim' sputtered " I WAS JOKEING!!!" "I wasnt" Danny laughed. "Anyway love I never did get your name" Danny says proping himself on his elbow.

'Tim' wasnt sure how to answer. He wasnt Tim, it didnt feel right using his name. "Uh Drake" 'tim' stuttered.

Wait no, that's so stupid why would he say drake! But then again 'Tim's' original did go by 'the drake' at one point sooo mabey they both arnt very smart.

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

Also feel free to add on your own stuff too, I love seeing people's stuff.

Part 2

[suzukiblu]

excerpt from the one where Tim Drake goes to an alternate reality and decides to get his other self laid via the local Kon's bisexual awakening:

"Anyway, it's not important," Tim says, waving his other self off. "Though maybe do look up Bernard later if you get a chance and see if he's available and not a supervillain or anything here, because trust me, absolutely worth it. Possibly worth it even if he is a supervillain here, I really cannot exaggerate what a good boyfriend he is. Like, he's such a good boyfriend that I'm currently working on the best way to promote him to fiancé." 

". . . but that's . . . not important?" his other self asks slowly. 

"I meant our sexuality's not important," Tim says. "Bernard specifically is wildly important. But I'm only mentioning all this to begin with because I want to know if you want to make a pass at your Kon with me and double-team his invulnerable ass." 

His other self stares at him. 

"Bernard and I have an open relationship, before you assume I'm a scumbag," Tim clarifies. "And Kon is quite literally the hottest person I've ever seen who wasn't actively rocking pheromone control powers at the time." 

"Uh," his other self says. "Is there like . . . a difference between our Kons, aesthetically, or . . ." 

"Not really, no, they're both unfairly attractive," Tim replies with a shrug. "Well, yours has a few more facial piercings and more of an undercut than a fade, and mine has more studs and patches on his costume and more expensive taste in sunglasses, but otherwise. Oh, and also he's started wearing this thigh holster pouch and I have no idea what he even keeps in the damn thing but it genuinely haunts me at night. Last week he pulled out a whole box of fruit snacks for Bart, the week before that he had three different flavors of Cassie's favorite chapstick and a pack of hair ties, and a month ago I ran out of explosive batarangs at a bad time and he just handed me one. I still don't know how I feel about that. Like, emotionally, I mean." 

"Uh," his other self says. 

"Anyway earlier your Kon put his arm around my neck and wrapped me up in his TTK so I wouldn't die while we were blowing up interdimensional murder-bots together and my dick hasn't jumped to attention that fast since my Kon got his nipples pierced and decided to show them off to me," Tim says. "So I'd like to fuck his brains out and it seemed polite to invite you along, all things considered." 

"Doesn't your boyfriend, like . . . mind that?" his other self says awkwardly. 

"My boyfriend thinks it's hot," Tim says. Thinks it's hot and regularly provides helpful suggestions for more effective methods of Kon-seducing, more specifically. Not that seducing Kon ever actually requires much effort, but Tim likes to go in with a plan anyway. It's his love language, what can he say. "Does your Kon have his nipples pierced, on that note?" 

"I have no idea," his other self says. "Maybe?" 

"No, you'd definitely know if he did," Tim says, shaking his head. 

"I mean, not necessarily," his other self says skeptically. "I don't see why he'd tell me either way." 

"Really? Because mine flashed me his entire Jacob's ladder about thirty seconds after he finished getting it done," Tim replies wryly. 

"What's a Jacob's ladder?" his other self asks with a frown. 

"Do you want me to tell you or do you want to see the last sext he sent me?" Tim asks, tilting his head. "Both options will answer the question, one's just more interesting than the other." 

His other self . . . blinks. Tilts his head too. 

"He sexted you? Like on purpose?" he asks, clearly bemused by the idea. 

"Safe to say it was on purpose, yeah," Tim says. "Honestly he sexts me more than he texts me at this point, and he texts me a lot." 

"And your boyfriend thinks that's . . . hot," his other self says, his frown deepening. 

"That my codependently needy best friend who I've become a supervillain with in certain timelines and who I once had a literal nervous breakdown over and who would perfectly willingly die on my say-so wants my dick?" Tim says. "Desperately hot, yes." 

His other self looks increasingly bemused. 

"Kon is definitely straight," he says. "I'm definitely straight." 

"Did you reexamine any of your feelings about Dick or Jason yet?" Tim asks. 

"I don't have any feelings about Dick or Jason," his other self says. "I mean, like–not like that!" 

"Well, maybe our realities are more dissimilar than I've been assuming," Tim allows, though he really hasn't gotten that impression at literally any point so far. "We could test it?" 

"Test it . . . how, exactly?" his other self asks warily. 

"Once in my reality Jason lost a bet and we made him wear one of Dick's old Nightwing costumes," Tim says. "Specifically the one with the v-neck." 

". . . okay?" his other self says, visibly bemused again. 

"He couldn't even get it to zip up halfway over his abs," Tim informs him. "Actually the whole thing was such a tight fit that Dick had to help him get back out of it. Squirming was involved. From both of them." 

His other self reverts to staring blankly at nothing. Tim waits patiently. 

"Okay," his other self says eventually. "Maybe I'm not entirely straight." 

"I've been going with 'bisexual' when I feel like I need a label," Tim supplies helpfully. "But you do you. So, I reiterate: want to double-team your Kon with me?" 

"Look, I don't know what yours is like, but my–our Kon is very literally the most convincingly heterosexual person I know," his other self says, frowning again and looking just barely uncomfortable as he folds his arms. "I genuinely cannot think of anyone I know who is more convincingly heterosexual than Kon." 

"Yeah," Tim says, giving him another pitying look. "Very convincingly heterosexual, isn't he. Almost like he's, I don't know. Convincing someone." 

". . ." his other self says. 

"Just for the record, he fucks like a porn star," Tim says conversationally. His other self goes back to staring blankly at nothing in particular. "Also: yes, the stamina translates, no, he really doesn't need to breathe, and yes, TTK can do everything that you think it can and also several things you haven't thought of yet." 

His other self keeps staring at nothing for a while. Tim grabs himself another Zesti and cracks it open, figuring this might take a minute. 

It takes several minutes, but whatever. Tim's got all night. 

"This might make things awkward with the team," his other self says finally, once Tim's mostly through his Zesti. "Or just with Kon in general." 

"You know how much he used to hate listening to you?" Tim says, as a man who was Bat-trained to show no mercy when convincing people to do what he wants them to. "Like, how you literally couldn't get him to do a damn thing you asked him to no matter what, even when you knew he knew better than to be starting some shit? Even when he'd listen to Cissie or Cassie telling him to do the exact same thing?"

"Yeah?" his other self asks with another frown. 

"You can just go ahead and extrapolate why refusing to accept someone's authority might be a thing with a guy who maybe feels a little bit weird about his sexuality," Tim says, then takes another sip of Zesti because this might also take a minute. 

". . . uh," his other self says, blinking slowly. "When you say it like that it sounds like . . ." 

"Like I'm implying that your best friend has some submissive tendencies in the bedroom and wasn't always comfortable with the way that letting specifically you boss him around made him feel?" Tim suggests. 

". . . like that, yeah," his other self manages. 

"Good, that means I said it right," Tim says. 

His other self makes a very weird noise, then puts his face in his hands. 

"He listens to you now, right?" Tim says. 

"This could make things so, so awkward," his other self reiterates in a mumble. 

"Speaking as the one who already knows what he looks like with our entire dick in his mouth, there is literally no amount of awkwardness that would not be worth it," Tim replies frankly, tossing his empty can. His other self makes an even weirder noise and doesn't drop his hands. 

"He'd never go for it," he says. 

"Technically a possibility, given the nature of the multiverse," Tim says agreeably, though if the local Kon shares even one or two of his own Kon's bulletproof kinks, this is in fact about as close to a sure thing as a sure thing gets. Like, Kon might feel awkward or nervous or for some reason think he should turn down the offer, but also Tim might just make said offer via telling him just how bad he wants to show him how good he is at taking dick and thereby score an instant K.O., sooooo . . .

Or he might just tell him what a sweet, pretty boy he is and score that K.O. the old-fashioned way. 

Look, Kon's easy. Tim likes to go in with a plan, yeah, but the plan has never once actually been necessary. Kon will try just about anything at least once, and if he doesn't want to try it he'll offer the next-best thing. As long as he knows someone's genuinely into him . . . 

Pretty much a sure thing, yeah.

[lovely-lonelys-world]

Hi, this is my first time posting please be nice. So I was scrolling through Joker jr fanart and came across I drawing with Tim holding a crowbar smiling wide as he cried and while I had a terrible twisted idea and decided to shere.

So, a few months before Jason Todd's death, little baby stalker Tim Drake is on a rooftop like most nights watching and talking photos of Batman and Robin fighting some bad guys. Jason makes eye contact with Tim, and Jason gets stabbed. Tim starts crying because he distracted Robin, so he runs away, as he runs, he cris harder cause 'What if he killed Robin?' and so he falls and when he falls he falls in front of you guessed it the Joker.

I haven't really thought it through why the joker decided to take Tim and turn him into Joker Jr. At first i was going to say it was because he has Bruce’s eyes but Joker doesn't know who Batmen is so why would he care about that? And so I'll just leave it to the actual writers and creative people.

So Joker does his thing, turning Tim into Joker Jr., and when Joker kidnaps Jason, he makes Tim beat Jason 'His Robin' to near death while he laughed and Tim cris he cris that it for a second made Jason forget about the pain and look at this kid and he sees how Tim’s mouth is sown into a smile at the ends and how the only sounds out his mouth was sorry's fulled with laughing sobs. Jason starts saying stuff like 'Im fine and I've been through worse', telling the Joker to shut up saying cures words The Joker has never ever heard before. He stops speaking when he starts choking on his blood, but he really wishes Joker jr would aim for his eyes and ear because he doesn't want to die hearing Tim cry and seeing his eyes all wet when they look just like Bruce's after a while Joker grads Tim saying his goodbyes to Jason and Jason heart breaks entirely when he hears Tim in that laughing sobbing mess begging Joker to let him stay so he can help Robin' and Joker laughs as he drags Tim out and 'Tick Tick Tick BOOM gose the Robin'.

That's honestly all I have the confidence to share. So yeah do with this as you like and I'm sorry if the story suck and is stupid. English is my first language but that doesn't mean I'm good at it

[veryace-ficrecs]

Tim Drake & Jason Todd Angst Fic Recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

in the planter outside my front door by CosmoKid - Rated G

When Tim’s six years old, his third-grade class takes a field trip to the old firehouse in The Narrows.

By the age of seven years old, he’s learned that there’s a difference between pain and Pain, and that while adults are generally happy to deal with pain, they do not enjoy you talking about Pain.

These two things may be related.

This Dark Ceiling Without a Star by Miss_Lazy_Tuesday - Rated M

“For fuck’s sake, your chatter is going to drive me crazy faster than this stupid spell.” “Then you talk!” “There’s no point!” Jason snaps. “I can feel it, okay. It’s—there’s no emotion behind it, it’s not using my thoughts. It’s just a bunch of weird Greek echoing in my brain and a compulsion to act. And it’s getting stronger. Talking isn’t going to slow it down.” “Then what will slow it down?” After five long seconds of silence, Tim gives into the urge and viciously jabs his fist into Jason’s leg for the second time. “Goddammit, why?” Jason snaps, green briefly sparking in his eyes before disappearing just as quickly. “You are not seriously going to just sit there and wait to die.” “The hell do you care anyway?” “Because I don’t want you to die! Obviously!” “You fucking should.” 

unaware i'm tearing you asunder by hendecagrisms - Rated T

The pieces were starting to click into place, aligning to create a deeply disturbing picture. “Are you seriously saying you’ll become a missing person and fake your death for this stupid homecoming plan?” Jason interrupted, his voice full of as much judgmental incredulity as possible. The kid’s eyes skated back over to him, his face twitching into a brief frown. “What? No.” A pause. “I mean, we could do that instead, if you wanted. But to fool Batman I’d need facial reconstruction surgery and new papers and it would all have to be untraceable—,” he broke off with a scoff, shaking his head slightly. “No, it’s just smarter and more cost-efficient to do it for real.” - Tim learns about Jason Todd's return, does some research on the Lazarus Pit, and realizes that there might be a way to solve multiple problems all at once: removing himself from the picture. For some strange reason, the Red Hood doesn't seem keen on cooperating.

Grin and Bear It (I got blood on your carpet) by Alia_JuneBug - Not Rated

When Jack Drake’s business trip gets canceled, he is forced to stay at home while the legal kinks get worked out. He’s not used to having a teenager underfoot, so it’s only rational that he’s a little snappish around Tim. At least, that’s what Tim tells himself each time his dad’s idea of discipline gets harsher. Bruce had told him to take a break from Robin in order to spend some time at home with his dad, and Tim can’t say no to that. He knows Bruce is probably glad to be rid of him for a short while. And he can handle discipline. This is a Tim Drake problem, not a Robin problem anyway. There’s no need for Bruce to know anything. Things get a little muddled when an injured Jason Todd crawls through his bedroom window.

Thrown into the Storm by ThePokeOne - Rated T

"It figured, Tim thought as he trekked through Gotham's streets in one of the worst storms he'd ever seen. He'd been careless. So stupidly careless."

Or:

Tim gets kicked out, and Jason has a change of plans.

am i the only one pretending (i did it to myself) by rutaceae - Rated T

Tim doesn’t expect his latest civilian kidnapping to be any different from the rest, but when he remembers things best left buried in the past, things take a turn for the worse. Luckily, his family is here to help.

sallow skin (and they can’t look away) by Ghxst_Bird - Rated T

Bruce is off planet when Robin’s distress beacon is lit. He tries not to worry, but then Nightwing contacts him: Robin’s tracker leads straight into Gotham Bay.

1-800-ROBIN by spqr - Rated T

“Gotham Youth Mental Health Hotline, this is Jason speaking. Can I ask who I’m talking to?” There’s a long silence on the other end of the line, and then a small voice says, “I, um. Sorry, I don’t know why I called. This was a mistake. I’ll just hang up now.” “Hey, wait.” Jason drops his feet to the floor, sitting forward in his shitty cubicle. Suddenly his heart is racing and he’s not sure why, but he can’t let this kid hang up. “You don’t have to tell me your name. That’s okay. Just – why don’t you tell me why you’re calling?”

buy the ticket, take the ride by Anonymous - Rated M

Tim had always figured that if he ever woke up in Vegas sans-memory, it would be when he was older than fourteen. But there were some things he couldn’t control, and apparently whatever had happened last night that he didn’t remember was one of them.

hungry for strays by Ghxst_Bird - Rated T

Tim knows something is wrong with Batman and Nightwing, and somehow it all has to do with the new crime lord on the rise in crime alley. So of course he’s not going to stay at the manor while they’re out risking their lives. Tim leaves a note and sets out for intel on the Red Hood. Aka. Everyone is straight up not having a good time

Safe and Warm by sardonic_sprite - Rated G

Batman.

Batman lived right next door. Batman surely had a generator, or at least a fireplace and wood, or some way to get warm.

Batman took care of kids, and Mr. Wayne was really nice. He would at least let Tim warm himself back up. Maybe he could even stay just until the power came back on.

It was worth a shot.

Nervous Breakdown by AhsokaJackson - Rated T

Jay closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose to push back the encroaching headache. And possibly the admittedly ironic desire to strangle this kid for his lack of self-care instincts. "Tim. Timmy. Answer me this. Where exactly is the old man? Actually, better question: Why in the ever-living hell is the answer to that anything other than 'right here'?" Tim gave a huff that sounded more tired than defiant. "Because, like I said, it's a mild case and I don't need to be under observation. I already told Bruce the same thing I told you: I'm fine." "And he believed that."

Don't You Know? by sardonic_sprite - Rated T

“How the hell did you think taking everything the real Robin had was going to make him proud of you?” Jason snapped. “I didn’t want to take anything,” Replacement cried. “I wanted to save it. It… Batman… they were… everything was just… It was awful, and, and Gotham needed… but Robin…” The kid looked up at Jason, desperation in his eyes, like he was trying to find justification from his accuser. “I-I know he wouldn’t have wanted Batman to die.”

Living Dead Boy by Terranpheum - Rated T

Tim was having a normal night photographing Batman and mourning the dead when Jason Todd suddenly breaks out of his own grave. He's unresponsive and catatonic, and Tim knows there's no way he can leave the boy on his own. So, he brings him back to Drake Manor to try and help him recover. It goes… well?

Instead of All the Colors That I Saw by SilverSkiesAtMidnight - Rated T

Dick comes around to stand fully in front of him, keeping a steadying hand on Tim’s arm. “Just because you know you’re safe intellectually doesn’t mean you always feel safe,” he says softly. “It’s okay if you don’t feel safe.” “But it’s not okay!” Tim bursts out. “Because if I don’t feel safe, then how is Jason supposed to feel safe? He shouldn’t have to feel uncomfortable just because my brain is screwed up!” There’s a faint sound by the door, barely more than an intake of breath, and his eyes snap to the no-longer empty doorway.

The Worst Kind of Crush by TimDrakeIsMyPatronus - Rated T

Civilians came first.  It was one of the foundational truths of being a superhero. Their job was to save civilians regardless of the personal cost. Each of them knew and understood the risks associated with the cape when they put it on.  Still, rules got fuzzy when one woke up underneath a building.  Or the one where a building explodes and Tim is trapped under the rubble

Last Request by destiny919 - Rated T

"Any last words, Replacement?" Red Hood casually crouches down in front of him. "Or how about a last request? I'm feeling generous. I'll do you one last favor before I clip those little wings. Whatever you want. Sky's the limit." There's only one thing he's ever really wanted from Jason Todd.

Echoes of You by SilverSkiesAtMidnight - Rated T

Graveyard mud, heavy and dark, clinging to a stained and torn suit. One shoe missing, a leg bent awkwardly and blood staining a bare foot.

Milk white skin beneath the mud, black hair hanging in muddy clumps around his ears. Blue eyes staring back at him, animal-bright and dilated in the brief moment before he flinches back from the light with a cry of pain that stabs through Jason to the soul.

His shaking hand closes around the flashlight before he can even think about it, cutting off the piercing beam and letting it spill out in shards between his fingers. For a petrifying moment as his eyes readjust, he’s sure that when he looks again, there will be nothing there.

“Tim?” he whispers.

The lean and ragged figure, tiny, god he’s so small, lowers his hands away from his face, away from his eyes wide and glittering almost silver in the moonlight.

Hands, mud-covered and torn. The red of his shredded fingernails is sickeningly dark in the broken light.

He’s vomiting before he even feels the bile making its way up his throat.

Petals for Armor by SilverSkiesAtMidnight - Rated T

There’s a small half-moon of blood under the white of Tim’s nail where he bent it. He studies the red of it, feeling foggy and dreamlike. “Can I ask you a question?” His brother’s eyes flick to him and away again, surprised and wary. “What?” His nail doesn’t hurt much, just the dullest of aches when he presses down against it. “When you were homeless, you slept with people for money, didn’t you?” Jason jerks like he’s been slapped. His knuckles are so pale where they grip the steering wheel they suddenly look more bone than flesh. “Did I -” “Was it worth it?” Tim asks, drifting like a cloud over whatever furious reaction Jason was about to give him. “The money, I mean.” His sternum slams into the seatbelt with bruising force. Unbraced for it, his head whips forward and back against his seat as they swerve off the road again and skid to a halt with a screech of rubber.

farthest you’ve ever flown by rutaceae - Rated T

When Jack Drake kicks Tim out in a rage, Tim, not wanting to be a bother, tries to make it work without getting the Bats involved. But he can only go so long without being found out, and it’s not Batman that ends up discovering his secret; it’s the Red Hood.

Familial Ties by AnonymousWhump - Rated T

What he wasn't expecting was to walk into the kitchen to find Tim,  yes Tim because he wasn't in the Robin outfit he was dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants, was that blood on his feet?  Staring at him in shock, eyes flicking from him to the phone in his hand, before mumbling a quiet,

“Jason?”  

Or, Jason breaks into the Titan's Tower to hurt Robin but his plan is quickly derailed when he sees signs of abuse.

Drop In by iselsis - Rated T

Tim's injured, alone in Crime Alley, and the worst possible person finds him. And yet it doesn't turn out as badly as Tim expected.

Watch Your Step Dear by Redaliveviolation - Rated T

Tim was having a great time watching the Dynamic Duo race across Gotham. He was getting so many good photos and he never wanted these nights to end. Too bad the heroes aren’t around when he takes a trip off of the side of a building.

[94badbye]

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bruce took the day off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Replacement, Replacement, Replacement.

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

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

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

"Hm."

"Are you okay with patrolling on your own?"

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

Please.

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

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

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

Anger is something no Robin should feel, and yet��

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

"Are you sure?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Even tonight?

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

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