#so yeah mentally jason in around 1 year older then tim

[oifaaa]

If Tim was 13 when he became Robin and Jason was 15 when he died and spent 6 months dead then there’s maybe just over a year between them. And then two years comatose then Tim drake is actually older than Jason was mentally despite Jason being legally and physically older which means Tim drake got beat up by two of his younger brothers which is really lame of him. Can’t believe he’s been beaten up by his younger brothers twice and he still acts like he’s the baby victim.

I like your thought process here your math is a bit off but let's ignore that in favour of how funny it is for Tim to be beaten up by 2 younger siblings

[imonthinice]

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 8/?

Word Count: 1.6k

Author’s Note: Y/N - Your Name, A/N - Any Name (Your Best Friend’s Name)

This one is shorter because of the last one’s length.

Hi everyone! By the time you see this, I will probably be out and therefore cannot update the other parts with this one’s link, so don’t worry about that if you notice it.

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Jason’s Trauma and his Death, Lightning, no beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9)  (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Going on day 5 of knowing each other, Jason and Y/N would spend the day apart. Why? Because they gave each other the chance to have family time, Jason got it by playing around with his baby siblings, playing Assassin.

Fluff Head canon came from frownyalfred on Tumblr, who wrote about Jason playing Assassin with his brothers 

He would go running through the halls playing the game that he and Dick knew all too well, it had been the only ‘no contact’ game they were allowed to play at a summer camp Bruce had sent them to all those years ago when they weren’t adults with a bunch of other siblings, and girlfriends. But here they were, explaining the game to their younger siblings while Alfred and Bruce hung out with Barbara, who wished she could play, but was paralyzed.

Everyone missed playing games with her like they used to, but with the video game consoles in the house they did transfer a lot of their gaming to online so they could relive memories with Barbs. It was bittersweet, and everyone remembered when she became paralyzed like it was yesterday, but she always wanted them to play games like they used to, with or without her. 

Jason admired his, hopefully, one day older sister for how she treated her disability, like it was a gift, not something that impacted her everyday life and made her have to hang up the cloak of Batgirl.

But running around chasing after Dick, because of course, he got Dick, the universe wanted them to play again, was something he missed so much. They hadn’t had so much of this time, family time, ever since they all became vigilantes, and they never realized how much they missed the thrill of running around with each other.

Jason ended up getting Dick and throwing him out of the game, calling it a ‘selfless act of brotherhood so you can hang out with your girl’ and they both laughed at it. Titus, Damien’s dog, ended up barking up a storm at Jason when he killed Dick, like the big dog was rooting for Dick to win the tournament.

“Down boy! It’s a game!” Jason would whisper-yell at his dog.

“Yeah! Good boy, Titus! Get him!”

“No!” Jason would yell while running throughout the house, Titus on his heels. Passing by Alfred, Bruce and Barbara, where Titus would stop and go lay at Bruce’s feet, but Jason didn’t know that.

Jason would end up coming in just 10 minutes later, with a green slash on his neck. Tim, who had pulled Cass but killed her, Cass, who had pulled Jason. Tim now had two kills in the game and both were to people who could have easily overpowered him. 

“Jase! Welcome to the land of the dead,” Dick greeted him.

“God dammnit I’ve already been here,” Jason whined in a joke.

“You and your ‘I died pity me’  jokes,” Barbara said.

“It’s called a coping mechanism, Barbs. And hi dad, Alfred,” Jason said as he waved slightly at both of them, Alfred waved back and Bruce nodded at him.

“You could just to go therapy, Jase,” Barbara said, seeming concerned for someone who she considered her baby brother. She remember when he came into the Manor, she was older than him, sure . But he had nightmares and she and Dick would switch between who would sleep at his door at night, they both had terrible backs until the nightmares calmed down. Jason never knew they did this.

It also happened when he was resurrected, but the nightmares were worse and he’d wake all sweaty and upset. There were too many nights where batkids would be in Jason’s bed with him from 12am to when Alfred would greet them in the morning. The nightmares had slowed down a lot in the past few years with the introduction of his Goddaughter into his life, but they still came by to remind him of what happened.

He didn’t talk about it much. They would always try to edge him on about about really happened, but he was stubborn. It made sense, sure, trauma is trauma. But they all wanted to help him get better. It hurt them all that he was hurting and they didn’t know how to help him get through it.

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

Y/N would sit on her bed that morning and finally finished organizing her criminal psychology and regular psychology notes when she came across her printed copy of Dr. Barry Allen’s dissertation she had studied so hard. She found it so weird that she was so close to someone who she looked up to in the field while also being so far in the same breath.

She didn't dote on it for long, she stocked it away with her forensics notes in their place. This, the relationship she had with Jason that intertwined her with so many people, was something she was getting used to by the minute, but it was never something she’d get fully used to as time goes on.

She would put on a JCS - Criminal Psychology video in the background as she worked and tried to make her journal look nicer when Jason texted her,

Good morning. He said.

Good morning :)  She said back.

I just lost a game against a 16 year old.

Huh?

My brothers and 2 of my sisters were playing Assassins with me right? Well my 16 year old brother, Tim, he ended up getting the better of me and beat me. 

Oh! So you suck!

What!? No, I’m literally so cool what do you mean? He said, it clearly had sarcasm undertones to it, so Y/N wasn’t worried if she offended him with saying he sucked.

Oh yeah? Then why’d you lose?

Well, I killed Dick.

Okay so you didn’t lose, Dick lost.

It started raining a little bit, the sounds of it hitting lightly against her window, and she felt at peace. It was never hard for her to feel peace when she was by herself. She only had one roommate because she liked the silence, to be alone to collect her own thoughts in her head.

Her parents said it was because she probably had underlying mental illness that they never had the money to diagnose. She agreed. But she still didn’t have the chance to do it.

Jason and her deserved so much more than what the world have given them up to this point, so when they found each other it was, in a way, the universe saying ‘I’m sorry, you deserve this’ and with each passing day it made the pain they had both felt in their lives just a little bit more tolerable.

No, I guess Dick sucks at the game more than me.

Where’d you even get the concept for that game?

Dick and I used to play it at a Summer Camp before we got kicked out.

For playing the game?

No, for being unruly children.

You seem like you were a handful back in the day.

I was, I was the worst kid to raise, my dad has a shirt that says ‘Proud parent of a kid who is sometimes an asshole but that’s OK’ and he wears it all the time.

What a dad moment. Don’t tell my father that shirt exists, he’ll get one for my mum and himself to represent my sister and I.

Were you an unruly child as well?

I was a troublemaker. Getting into arguments with my authoritative figures about dress codes, rules, why girls couldn’t carry chairs, literally anything that was unequal, I was at their throats about it.

I mean, as you should. My older sister, Barbara, and my younger sisters, Stephanie and Cassie, they would like that about you.

I feel like in someway I’ve won over every part of your family.

The rain would get more violent as time went on. Strikes and hits of lightning would strike all around the city, hitting those gargoyles on every building, she always figured they were decorative, but A/N explained that their horns were made out of copper so people wouldn’t get struck by lightning. Bruce Wayne actually made that a thing, A/N said.

Y/N got a message from the dance competition that she signed up to, turns out, California was hit with a hurricane and most people evacuated. No one was allowed in or out. She guessed weather was being funky everywhere. It sucked, but she already was wishing she could spend time at home instead of out in the world.

A feeling she hated.

She would spend the rest of the day on and off the phone with Jason while it stormed. She would go to bed early that night.

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

Jason slipped on his vigilante uniform, the Red Hood was going to be on patrol over this night, stormy or not, it was his duty and he knew that. Did he want to go? Yes. He was killing for some action and he was going with Dick. They would probably have some ‘Bro Time’ which Jason wanted. 

Even if it was silence, having Dick nearby him meant enough and gave him peace of mind.

He grabbed his guns and loaded them while packing a few extra magazines in his belt, when Dick placed a hand on his shoulder, “You have to be careful tonight, Jase,” Dick said as he gulped down tears, “Just come back to me alive if you break off from me, okay?”

“Alive but bruised,” Jason joked.

“I’m serious. I can’t lose you again and tonight is going to be massively dangerous.”

“You won’t.”

[moonlitceleste]

Elevator Love (Ch. 2)

Chapter 1

So I know it’s been a while since I posted the first chapter, but I decided to give you guys a second as a Valentine’s Day surprise!

I’m really sorry for not updating earlier; besides hating the first chapter so much that I didn’t want to continue, I’ve been really busy with school and extracurriculars, the other WIPs and hobbies I have, and recently my mental health has made a steady plummet haha.

I simultaneously have a vague idea and also absolutely no idea where this fic will go, so we’ll see! Updates will probably be few and far between because besides all the factors mentioned earlier, I’m a really, really, slow writer

Also, I wrote the last chunk of this chapter 1AM last night, so sorry if it’s not coherent askjdhsj

Ages are as follows (it’s been so long since I wrote the first chapter that I forgot what I initially planned them to be so...)

Alfred: ∞ Bruce: 37 Babs: 30 Dick: 27 Cass: 22 Jason: 22 Duke: 20 Tim: 20 Marinette: 19 Damian: 13

Warning: some profanity/cursing ahead!

-

The heavy metal door to Bruce’s office knocked against the wall with a bang as Jason kicked it open with the toes of his worn black boots.

“What,” he grunted, not even waiting for the older to speak first.

Sure, maybe his unprovoked attitude was a little much, but Jason couldn’t help his annoyance.

Just hours before, he was preparing to settle into his favorite plush beanbag and read (well, reread) The Count of Monte Cristo. After a long week of crime-fighting, nothing sounded better than relaxing next to a crackling fire and getting lost in the pages of his favorite book.

But of course, as soon as he decided to unwind, his phone rang with the obnoxious tune of “Jingle Bells, Batman smells!”

Babs had installed the ringtone as a Christmas prank, reinforced with some advanced encryption she had come up with.

Jason could change it if he wanted to—he wasn’t stupid—but Babs was a tech whiz, and it would take more effort than he wanted to spend. Besides, he didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing him struggle.

After the jingle abruptly breached his bubble of tranquility, Jason grudgingly picked up his phone.

He was immediately met with Bruce’s gruff voice and barely had time to process the words that filtered through before the triple beep that signified the end of the call sounded.

What the fuck?

Jason groaned in frustration and ran a hand through his black locks, ruffling the hair at the back of his head.

First Bruce called him without warning, demanded he meet him in his office, and proceeded to hang up without leaving him room to talk?

Fucking rude.

Why could he have just texted the very short request he had to Jason instead? That way he could just ignore it and pretend he didn’t see it.

It’s not like he had to oblige—he wasn’t a fucking lapdog, thank you very much—but if he didn’t, Bruce would come up with some inane punishment, like making him babysit Damian.

He didn’t hate the kid or anything, but Jason would rather not have to deal with a hormonal boy in the midst of puberty.

So he set down his book, threw on his leather jacket, and crusaded through the shitty Gotham streets on his motorcycle.

Wayne Enterprises was just as pristine as it was his last visit, with glossy gray-black floors and glass that stretched from ceiling to floor, so clean it sparkled.

Jason passed through easily enough, though not without being spared a few glances that varied from shock to suspicion.

The double-takes weren’t unexpected, what with his being the son of their boss and all, and the suspicious glances from those who didn’t recognize him weren’t exactly unwarranted.

He knew his leather-jacket, combat-boot wearing self looked laughably out-of-place compared to everyone else.

Jason ignored the looks, a habit that had quickly become second nature the moment he went from street kid to ‘street kid with a roof over his head.’

The elevator was thankfully vacant, and as the doors started to close, he shot a quick thanks to the universe that no one else had decided to get on.

Perhaps this was a mistake, because less than a second later he heard a high-pitched voice shout “Wait!”

Jason sighed disappointedly and pressed the button that would open the doors.

He might not have been in the mood for company, but he wasn’t an asshole.

...Okay, whatever. He wasn’t a total asshole.

The girl ran into the elevator after a short while, cheeks flushed from running.

As she stuttered out a thanks, Jason subtly observed her.

She looked a little young to be working at Wayne Enterprises, and her outfit looked much more “picnic date” than it did the formal attire most wore.

There were only a few around her age that worked at WE, none of which whose significant other would have an access card to the building (other than Tim, that is, but there was no way the Replacement had a girlfriend.)

Maybe she was a daughter of one of the employees, then.

The elevator space soon filled up with boxes, and they were forced to do an awkward shuffle to compensate.

A minute later, the girl was unceremoniously shoved into him.

The sweet smell of vanilla and strawberries—subtle yet perceptible—hit his nose, and Jason glanced down.

He could really only see the top of the girl’s head due to their proximity, but her body language screamed discomfort.

So he backed himself up into the elevator wall as much as he possibly could, whispering a sorry and cursing his tall build all the while.

She was admittedly cute, but he’d be damned if he was the prick who pressed himself up against girls without their enthusiastic consent.

The ride was spent with bated breath, and one elevator stop later, Jason found himself walking to Bruce’s office and kicking in the door.

There was a brief silence as it swung back and forth from the momentum; the older simply sighed tiredly and gestured to the chair across from him.

“Have a seat.”

Jason glanced at the black office chair, then at the door as if he were about to suddenly bolt, and then back at the chair. He seemed to think the better of making a hasty escape and grudgingly walked forward, though not without rolling his eyes.

So fucking dramatic.

“What,” he repeated once he had sat himself down.

Bruce just stared at him, hands in a steeple position. It was no doubt an intimidation move; he had seen Batman use the same on Arkham villains.

Jason met his gaze unflinchingly. If he wanted a staring contest, that’s what he’d get.

“Tim has a…friend coming over.”

The silence was broken with slow words, spoken in an almost careful manner.

“Okay. Why’d you have to call me here to tell me that?”

Blunt and to-the-point as always.

“I’m an adult, Bruce. I don’t need a lecture about being on my best behavior. Damian might, though,” he added as an afterthought.

Bruce sighed again and wow was he was doing a lot of sighing today. He really was melodramatic.

“I wasn’t going to lecture you, Jason. I just wanted you to know so you could be prepared.”

“Oh.”

The silence was palpable as an air of awkwardness settled around the two, and Jason sat there fighting the urge to shift in his seat before speaking.

“So is that it?”

“Yes.”

He stood abruptly at the dismissal, pushing in his chair as if he couldn’t wait to get out of there. Well, he did want to get out of there.

With one hand he smoothly opened the heavy door, prepared to leave, but he stopped in his tracks when Bruce spoke once more.

“Jason?”

“What?” he asked, with considerably less annoyance than the first two times.

“...I’m proud of you, lad.”

Jason tried to suppress his shock at the statement, but he wouldn’t be surprised if his facial expression betrayed him.

Despite the somewhat-steady in their family dynamics the past few years, they were still an emotionally constipated bunch.

Jason couldn’t remember the last time someone said those words to him; they meant more to him than he’d reveal.

But because he was a part of the emotionally constipated Wayne family, he settled for an offhand “Yeah, yeah,” before closing the door and walking out.

There was a ghost of a smile on his lips, and the warmth in his heart was one he hadn’t felt in a while, but he could deal with all those emotions later—for now, he had a book to get to.

PERMANENT TAGLIST @avengerthewarrior *@bluesimani @enternalempires @flower-girll @freesportspalacesalad @glastwime859 @h1sss @heart-charming @jalaluvsu @kitsunebell @maskedpainter @moongoddesskiana @nathleigh @too0bsessedformyowngood

ELEVATOR LOVE TAGLIST *@bluesimani @buginetye @bumblebeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje @laurcad123 @moonlightstar64 @roguishredaxion

[rainygothherowolf]

Jasonette- Little Sister Pt.1

Here ~ Next ~ Last

Jason was annoyed, he didn't understand why he had to babysit a bunch of annoying teenagers. Bruce tried to make the excuse of keeping them safe while Joker was on the loose, but that didn't mean the head of security of an international company should be following some stupid tourists.

On top of that, his little sister's birthday was coming up. It was hardly a week away but Jason was already feeling the guilt, she would have turned fifteen this year. Jason remembered how a six-year-old Marinette would go on and on about when she became a teenager.

// Flashback, 12 years ago //

"Jay-Jay!" A small half-Asian girl with midnight hair exclaimed, her bright blue eyes shining with excitement as her hands shot up, asking to be held.

"Alright, alright, jeez I just got back, pixie! And you're getting to old for this!" A fourteen-year-old Jason picked up the far too light girl, balancing her on his hip as he fished the granola bar out of his back pocket. "Are you hungry?" Marinette shook her head 'no', pushing the food towards him.

"I ate yesterday, it's your turn." Marinette pouted but took the food anyways.

"Wanna share?" She offered, Jason shook his head. He insisted she eat, and eventually she did.

"Now, I have to go back." Marinette frowned, "I just came to bring your food. I'll be back soon, see you tomorrow." Jason gave his little honorary sister a hug before tucking her into bed, using both her blanket and his.

"When I'm big, like you, I'm gonna make you stay!" Jason chuckled softly before tucking her in again, on the inside he was proud. She was so smart, she'd grow-up to become an amazing person, Jason just had to make sure she lived long enough to do it.

// Flashback ends //

Jason never saw Marinette again, that was the night Batman found him and took him in. His life had changed so much since that night, if only he hadn't been so stupid and told Bruce about Marinette, Jason was convinced he would have taken her in too. But now it was too late, apparently she'd been adopted by some couple in Europe but the case was sealed and without telling Tim or Bruce he'd never get his hands on them.

The second robin was pulled out of his thoughts when Dick approached him, strangely not at work.

"What?" Dick seemed to get more and more excited as he walked with Jason.

"Where are you going, Jay?" Jason glared at his brother, shoving him off.

"I have to go babysit some french class that Bruce invited."

"Hey, you never know- it could be fun!" Jason just rolled his eyes at his older brother's golden retriever-like mentality. They turned a corner and boarded the elevator.

"What are you even doing here, aren't you supposed to be working?"

"I got the afternoon off."

"Great, wanna take my place?" Dick looked at his watch before responding.

"No, trust me, you're the better person for the job." Jason was confused by that, but the elevator doors opened and a quick glance at his own watch told Jason he was late.

"Whatever." Jason huffed as he walked to the lobby, but Dick just followed him as he messed with his phone. Odd.

Marinette was excited, her class had been selected by Wayne Enterprises for a class trip! She was so happy that she'd get to see Gotham again. No one knew that Marinette had grown up in the states and been adopted by the Dupain's, not that anyone cared. The class was quick to fall into Lila Rossi's trap, it hurt Marinette to see her friends leave her but she'd be okay. She had Tiki and her parents.

She might not have Jason, but she'd be okay. She had to be, Ladybug couldn't be emotional compromised.

Lila suddenly pulled Marinette from her revere when she gasped,

"Oh my goodness, you won't tell anyone right? Bruce always hates when people find out, our family is really serious about privacy... but you won't say anything right?" The class was quick to give their assurances before Lila continued to spin her web of lies. She was prattling about some rich boyfriend of hers and how she’s practically family.

Instead of listening to the mindless Italian, Marinette decided to take in the modern lobby. The walls were a sharp white that went well with the dark marble floors. There was a sleek receptionists desk with four busy-looking employee's. Everyone was dressed in business-wear so the french class stood out like a sore thumb. The room had tall ceilings with an understated, modern chandelier and rounded sofas. The seating was scattered throughout the large lobby.

Their tour guide was a nice blond man named Mark, he that said they were going to begin as soon as a security guard assigned to escort them arrived. Marinette was waiting near Mark and Mme. Bustier, keeping her distance from Lila's coffee and her class' harsh glares.

"Later, Dick." An almost familiar voice called, it was gruffer and deeper than it used to be but Marinette instantly recognized it.

"Jay-Jay?" Marinette called out, softly, disbelievingly, it wasn’t the first time she’d thought she heard the voice but the bluenette couldn’t help but hope. He caught it and their eyes met. Marinette could feel her eyes fill with unshed tears as she took Jason in, he was much taller with dark hair and an odd white tuft on the front. His face had matured since she'd last seen him, he now had sharp features and a strong jawline, his eyes were unmistakable. He was dressed in a suit but on top of his shirt was a bullet proof vest, sure she couldn't remember much but his voice had always calmed her and the thought of the skinny fourteen year old smirking would always make her smile, it was almost instinctual.

"Pixie pop?" He sounded like he couldn't believe his eyes, behind the shock was relief- and grief. Marinette slowly walked towards Jason, stopping right in front of him.

Jason couldn't believe it. After all these years they finally found each other again. Regret and disappointment washed over him in waves. Her eyes looked broken. He never should have left her, he should have found her sooner, he should have told Bruce, he should have done something- anything.

"Marine-?" Jason tried to speak but was cut off, Marinette had slapped him. Hard. The harsh noise of her hand hitting his skin got everyone to stop in their tracks, even the eternally busy receptionists. His cheek stung, she was stronger than she looked. He didn't stop her.

"Idiot." Before Jason even knew what was happening Marinette was hugging him, jumping to reach her arms around his neck.

He did his best to shove back his self loathing for another time, right now he had to focus on Marinette.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so so sorry." Jason just kept apologizing as he hugged her back, a stray tear seared his cheek. Marinette cut him off with a flick to his ear- he used to do that when she was bratty.

"Where did you go? Why did you leave me? I was alone. And you promised!" Marinette spoke, pushing through the tears, through the emotion- all Jason could do was dip his head in shame. He always promised they'd stay together, no matter what.

"A lot of stuff happened, Pixie. Let's get out of here- yeah?" Marinette nodded before hugging Jason again, this time around the waist.

"I missed you, you big idiot. You’re the worst brother ever, you owe me a lot of candy." Jason relaxed at the word brother, even if he had years to make up for it was better than losing his little sister for good.

"See! I told you he was looking into it for a reason, pay up!" Dick exclaimed, that got Jason's attention. Dick and the rest of his siblings saw his glare and quieted. Damian wasn't even paying attention, he was on his phone. Tim saw the glare but still payed Dick, grumbling as he did so.

"Go be idiots somewhere else."

"No way! She said brother! That makes us her brothers too!" Marinette jumped at the conclusion, Jason growled. He glared again, but the tiny person clinging to Jason took the edge off.

"Dick Grayson." The original Robin introduced himself politely, "Nice to meet you." She greeted the boy politely, wiping her tears away with her left while she shook his hand with her right.

"Tim Drake." The most exhausted of the group introduced, he was about to do something to the youngest- whose head was still buried in his phone- but was interrupted.

"Of course the slut has an american sugar daddy!" Lila loudly announced laughing, the rest of the class joined in- some more hesitantly than others. Jason noticed Marinette try to make herself smaller, hugging him tighter- this wasn't anything new to her.

Jason glared, the boys eyed him- worried about the genuinely deadly look in his eye.

"What did you call her?" Jason asked in perfect french, the children flinched. Mme Bustier stood between the students and Jason, looking nervous but determined.

"Please don't intimidate my students." The woman tried to sound firm but failed miserably.

"Then maybe you should stop your students from bullying their classmate, or did you not hear the brunette insult another student?!" Caline didn't know whether or not to answer but decided to stay quiet.

"Any of you brats insult my little sister again and you won't wanna know what happens." Jason quietly threatened, meaning every word.

"Little sister?" Alya exclaimed, "Please! Marinette is an only child, if you're going to lie at least be convincing! You don't know her at all, the lying bully is just trying to steal the spotlight again!" Jason was pissed and took a threatening step towards the girl, but deep down he knew she was right, he didn't know Marinette. But the one thing he did know was that he was her brother, and no one messed with his family.

For once, Jason's brothers were quiet. Dick and Tim were waiting to see how Jason would handle everything, waiting to see if they needed to intervene. Damian was on his laptop, not giving anyone a second glance. It seemed to Jason he had been paying attention because Damian assumed he'd be in the lobby long enough the take out his computer.

The entire exchange from the moment the insult was given to now had taken no longer than a minute but Marinette was still clinging to Jason until he tried to walk towards Alya again, she had whispered something to Lila that made her laugh and when Jason tried to move forward Marinette released him and grabbed his suit coat, trying to pull him back. Sure the pulls were weak but she meant it.

"You'll just make it worse, Jay." He huffed, there was no way in hell he was going to let Marinette anywhere near the moronic class ever again.

"Fine, let’s call security and get them out of here."

"Hey you can't do that, we were invited by Bruce Wayne himself." Jason continued as if the bespectacled brunette hadn't spoken.

"Oh wait! I am security! Get out."

"Jason-"

"B! Great, you can tell them to leave! I'm outta-here!"

"You're not going anywhere, Jason, and the class is scheduled for a tour. Tim, call Lucius. Ask him to cover for us and get someone who isn't the head of security to escort the tour. Never touch my email again." Tim sheepishly agreed, dialing Lucius' number.

Bruce then turned to the French class as they stared in awe, Caline blushed softly.

"You must be Mme Bustier?" She nodded, "I'm Bruce Wayne, my apologies for the delay, the tour will be starting shortly. If it's alright with you, may Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng be excused from the tour?" Bruce spoke in pristine French, the teacher could only nod in response to the older man's rehearsed smile.

"Mr. Wayne! Can I get a quote for an article?" Alya asked without thinking.

"What's your article about?" Bruce asked, curious.

"Uh-" Alya blushed before trying to disappear into the crowd, he politely ignored her outburst.

"It was a pleasure meeting all of you, but if you'd excuse me I have other things to attend to-"

"Wait! Aren't you going to greet Lila?" The billionaire looked confused for a moment before he noticed one girl looking particularly distressed.

"I'm sorry to say I don't know anyone by that name, now if you'll excuse me-"

"What do you mean? Lila Rossi, your honorary niece! She practically lived with you when her mother worked at the embassy here in Gotham! Your youngest son, Damian's childhood friend! Her boyfriend!" The boy on his laptop snorted at Rose's statement.

"I am not in a relationship with anyone, and I have no childhood friends." Damian shut his laptop as he ran a hand through his hair making a good portion of the class blush, Marinette couldn't help but think 'He's too good looking for his own good'. His dark hair and tan skin highlighted his jade eyes, a business suit adding to her professional demeanor. His shorter, swoopy hair was mesmerizing... and his arms were thick and seemed strong, the veins on his hand clearly visible as it moved through his silky locks. Jason seemed to catch onto her train of thought and hastily covered her eyes.

"No." Marinette giggled, coming back to reality when the boy was shielded from view. He was as protective as ever. She remembered how he'd get when the other kids used to get close to Marinette, being a little girl meant pity cash from adults and was a solid partner on the streets of Gotham. Marinette moved his hand to watch the long awaited fall of Liar Rossi.

"What do you mean?" Nino exclaimed.

"If that wasn't true, what else did you lie about?" Kim exclaimed, Alix seconded.

"Nothing, I swear." The brunette pleaded, desperately trying to convince the class.

"Does this mean you don't know those music producers you promised I'd get to meet?" Nino demanded, the class began to circle around Lila, all asking about promises she'd made

"And the acting internship?" Milene asked.

"Do you even know Ladybug?"

"Or Jagged Stone?"

"Was anything you said true?" The class continued to ask her questions, Lila looked shaken as her not-so-carefully crafted web of lies fell apart.

"Was what you said about Marinette true?"

"Did she even bully you?"

"I knew she wouldn't say such horrible things!"

"Yeah, Marinette never would have hurt anyone! I can't believe we fell for your lies!" Everyone began to yell at Lila, blaming her for all the awful things they did to her. Jason could hardly stand it, pulling Marinette into another hug- she had been dealing with morons.

"Class! Now is not the time, we have a tour. Unless you want the trip to end early I suggest you quiet down!" Mme Bustier was ignored. Mike whistled, loudly.

"Alright! It's time for the tour, so quiet down!" The tour guide quickly took a head count and led the class away, an artificial smile in place. Everyone was either glaring at the Lila girl or looking at Marinette as they walked away.

"Sorry about them, they can get pretty loud." Marinette tried to play the whole thing off, they let her.

"Bruce Wayne."

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng, it's an honor to meet you sir. Thank you for the trip!" Bruce gave his three younger sons a look, Damian was back on his laptop but was quick to defend himself.

"I, for one, had no part in this, father. They bet on why Jason looked into some girl's adoption file."

"And you knew?" Damian stopped typing and looked up.

"Maybe... but you can't prove anything." Tim smirked before he remembered what he was going to do before any of the drama came up.

"Damian! Introduce yourself!" The boy who looked to be a little older than Marinette rolled his eyes with a sigh but approached the girl nonetheless, glaring at Tim before looking at Marinette for the first time. His scowl morphed into something else as he studied her.

Marinette noticed his examining her and blushed, but looked back at him just as interested.

"... Damian Wayne."

"Marinette." They shook hands, neither taking their eyes off each other. Jason looked between the two teenagers, first at Damian then to his little sister before going back to Damian and then back to Marinette before it stopped on Damian's- Jason.exe stopped working before it went into overdrive.

As if on instinct, Jason put a hand on each of their shoulders pushing them apart. Their longer-then-normal hand shake ended as they eyes snapped to Jason.

"Don't even think about it. No way in hell, brat, keep your slimy paws off my sister." Marinette blushed heavily, averting her eyes in embarrassment.

Dick and Tim howled in laughter when they heard Damian's response, Bruce smirked.

"She's your sister, not mine."

[wordsfromthesol]

Just A Facade (1/2)

Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Summary:  Dick is very confused that his brothers seem to all be getting along with you, and worse…wanting to help you. And wait…were you dating his brother?! Warnings:  Violence, getting shot, cursing Word Count: 2.2k Taglist: @zphilophobiaz @anousiemay @malfoys-demigod @pricetagofficial

“What do you mean we are working with Y/N?” Dick questioned his brother.

“It’s her case, she needs back-up.” Jason simply stated.

“She tried to kill me last week!”

“That sounds like a you problem.”

“I have no problem with her, what’s the case?” Tim chimed in.

“I’m glad you asked, replacement.” Tim rolled his eyes at Jason’s nickname. “But I’m going to let her explain it. Be here tomorrow, 10am.”

“She has not entrusted you with the information, has she?” Damian grunted out.

Jason swiftly punched him in the arm, “Shut up demon.”

“Did no one hear me?! She tried to kill me last week! Why are we helping her?” Dick attempted to plead his case once again.

“Can you really blame her though…” Jason reasoned as he turned to walk away, Tim and Damian following closely behind. Dick was left dumbfounded at the table.  

**

10 am rolled around quickly for boys that spent all night patrolling, but they all sat at the table holding back yawns when you sauntered through the door.

“Hello boys, good to see you all.” You sent a knowing smirk Dick’s way. Before any of them could reply you continued, “So here’s the deal. Kids have been going missing.” You slid a file over towards Tim. “I need you to find the pattern.” Your voice wavered on the last syllable. In one second your demeanor completely changed as you accidentally let the façade drip away. “They’re just kids and someone is taking them, but no one seems to care.” You closed your eyes, as you caught your mistake. Taking a breath, your persona slowly morphed back into that which you had carefully constructed. “They don’t have the same birthdays, none of them seem to be from the same socioeconomic class…I could list the differences for days. I found two things connecting them: one, they’re all 12 years old, two, their guardians don’t notice or simply don’t care.”

“Well, they all have different zodiac signs. Someone could be trying to collect them all.” Tim blurted out as he continued to scan the pages.

“I didn’t notice that…” your voice went somber. Maybe if I had, one less kid would be missing…You shook yourself back into character. “Guess that’s why I came here. Anyways, four kids have been taken so far. I circled the most likely locations where they went missing. I count four little birdies, so I was thinking you could each hit a scene. Find something I missed.”

“And that leaves you where?” Dick questioned your intentions.

“I’m going to stay here and review the file, that computer there has more resources than mine.” You stated blatantly while pointing at the large monitor across the room.

“You, stay in the cave, alone…I don’t think so.”

“Ask Alfred to come babysit then. I’ve been to those scenes a dozen times.” You sucked in a breath, attempting to hide your sorrow and frustration. “I’m more useful here.”

“Lighten up Dickie, she’s been alone here dozens of times.” Jason taunted his older brother as he gave him a quick jab to the side.

“SHE’S WHAT?!” This caused an eruption of laughter in everyone…except Dick.

“Come on Dick, we’ll have more luck while it’s light out. Let’s go.” Tim composed himself and tried to ease the situation. “We’ll let you know if we find anything.” Tim directed the words towards you as he turned to leave.

“Tt, when we find something.” Damian mumbled before following his brother.

Dick sighed as he realized he was outnumbered, “Fine, but I’m getting Alfred before I leave.”

“Whatever makes you feel better sunshine.”

**

The boys didn’t get back until nearly dark, and none of them had very good news.

“Look, Y/N/N, we all took pictures.” Tim sighed, not wanting to admit defeat just yet. “I’ll compare the scenes and hopefully something will pop up. We’ll get this…” Tim consoled you as he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah.” You took in a deep sigh, mentally reminding yourself to stay composed. “Do you still need this file?”

“No, take it. Remember to sleep though.”

You nodded walking over to table, where both the file, Damian, and Jason were sitting.

“I would be honored to pose as bait.”

A faint smile graced your lips, “Thanks Dami, but I’m afraid you don’t fit the bill. They’ve all been 12 years old, remember?”

“I can pass for 12!”

“I’m sure they go on more information than looks…but thanks.” You turned to leave but stopped as you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“Y/N, leave that here and take a break. When we do find these people, you need to be sharp.” Jason leaned in closer and whispered, “I can’t let you get hurt.”

“I’ll be fine, Jay. I’ve survived worse…”

“Heh, yeah. Guess so. Want me to walk you home?” Jason tried to mask the obvious concern in his voice.

“So you can just take the file as you leave?” You followed his cue and leaned in, whispering, “I think not my little Jaybird.”

Jason threw his hands up in defense, knowing you weren’t going to let this go. Dick waited for you to leave before he erupted.

“Are you all friends with her?! SHE TRIED TO KILL ME!”

“Did she really though?” Tim questioned his eldest brother, who just looked at him perplexed. “I mean…you’ve seen her fight, was she pulling her punches? Did she seem to move in slow motion? Did she stop as soon as whatever league members with her were gone?”

Dick’s mouth opened wide, as if to begin to answer, but he quickly shut it as his brows furrowed.

“She’s tried to kill me too…” Jason said with air quotes around the words.

“Same here” Tim chimed. Dick looked to Damian.

“Do not turn your gaze upon me, my mother would never allow the league to come after me.”

“I think there are other things at play that you don’t know about Dickie.” Jason tried to reason with his older brother as he turned to leave.

**

Dick still didn’t trust you, so a few hours later he made his way to your apartment. Crouching on a nearby ledge, he watched as you poured over documents scattered about the table before you. Suddenly you thrust your hands across the desk and collapsed to the floor. Is she crying? Now Dick was thoroughly confused, but his gazed was still fixed on you. After nearly a minute, you stood up and carefully began picking up the papers and photographs and placing them back on the desk. He watched as your head jerked towards the door, and as you stalked into the kitchen and reached for your gun. Seconds later the front door flew across the living room. As Dick swung towards you, he saw you place a bullet directly between the man’s eyes.

**

The crash of the window caused your focus to falter, however, you were relieved as you noticed the familiar black and blue costumed character glide across the floor and land at your side. Nodding at him you leapt over the kitchen counter and threw your body weight at the next assailant entering your apartment. His head rammed into the wall, knocking him out cold. You looked up and saw a gun pointed your direction. You quickly positioned the unconscious body between yourself and the gun. Unfortunately, this gun-for-hire didn’t care much for his coworker and shot directly through him. The bullet lodged itself in your stomach.

“Nightwing, give me some cover!” You screamed out and ran for the table, throwing as much as you could into a nearby backpack. Grabbing your phone, you took pictures of all the information that was plastered on your walls. You looked back to see Dick landing the final punch and called out again. “Window!” Before you had time to check that he heard you, or was behind you, you jumped.

Immediately you spread your arms and legs out in order to slow you down as much as possible. Part of you almost wished that you didn’t feel that arm wrap around your waist. You held back a pained scream as the hand fell directly over the fresh bullet wound. Dick turned to you as your feet hit the ground.

“Are you fucking crazy?!”

You only shrugged, “How many are left? Where’s your car?”

Even with the domino mask, you could tell Dick was glaring at you. “Three more were in the hallway. I noticed two vans, and an armed man at each exit. Motorcycle is three blocks down.”

“Alright, lead the way.”

As you walked through streets, you pulled one of the backpack straps loose and tied it tightly around your stomach. You could only hope the adrenaline was enough to get you to the cave. Just as you passed the first alley, an arm grabbed you and slammed you against the brick. Your arm reached up and wrapped around his neck as you kicked off from the wall. His body collided with the adjacent wall, as he struggled to free himself from your grasp. Soon you felt his body go heavy in your arms and you laid him to the ground just as two more assailants rounded the corner. You lunged at the closest one, while Nightwing came up behind and kicked the other’s legs from under him. Suddenly you began hearing gunfire ring through the air. Before you could get to the ground another bullet pierced your side, a mere inch away from the first. Thankfully, Nightwing quickly disarmed the man shooting blindly around the corner.

As the two of you rounded the corner you tossed your backpack to Dick. “Make sure Tim gets this. It could be helpful.” You could feel the pain burning through your whole body, the initial shock worn off. Dick looked at you, confused, but took the backpack anyways. The two of you made it to the motorcycle without any more fighting, but you looked at it wondering how you were going to hold on. You still don’t even know how you made it.

Walking into the cave you ignored the boys who quickly began to pour over the new information that Dick scattered across the table. You headed straight to the medical station, which thankfully Alfred had neatly organized. You quickly found what you needed and set up a table near the hospital bed.

You began cutting through your shirt but stopped short of the backpack strap as you noticed black spots creeping up in your vision. “Fuck.” Blinking rapidly to push them back, you threw your hand out, searching for the tweezers on the table. Your hand hit the tray instead, you winced at the sound of the metal clashing with the floor. Soon, all eyes were on you.

“Y/N? What the fuck? Are you hit?” Jason words rung through your head as he raced to your side.

“I got it…” You swung your legs over the side of the bed, in a sad attempt to recollect the tools on the ground. Jason steadfastly pushed you back into place.

“No you don’t. Stay. Please.” His head whipped around towards his brother, “I know you don’t like her…but really?” The disdain rose up in Jason’s voice before his attention turned back to you.

Dick’s head fell, “I didn’t know.” He whimpered before heading back near the computer to help Tim.

Jason made quick work of the wound, “Alright doll…I know it’s not the prettiest, but you’re all set.”

“Uhm…Jay…” Your eyes blinking heavily, you reached for the scissors in his hand. Reluctantly, he let you have them. You cut away the strap revealing another wound.

“Dammit Y/N!” Jason screamed a little too loudly, his eyes filled with worry. Dick rushed to his side.

“What happened?!” He was already thinking the worst.

“Nothing pretty boy. I just need more supplies.” Jason pushed passed his brother. “She was hit twice, apparently.”

“Twice? How did I not…” Dick mouthed under his breath. “Is that the backpack strap?” He began to question you. “When were you hit?!”

“Uhm…first at the apartment.” You winced as Jason dug into your skin with the tweezers. “The damn bullet went right through him.” A faint smile graced your lips. “Not fair…” you mumbled. “Second one got lucky.” Your voice grew more brittle. “Shooting blind…”

“I gave her some morphine. She’s probably going to be out of it for awhile.” Jason said without looking up from his work.

“I didn’t know, Jay.”

“Somehow, I don’t know if that’s better.” Jason chided as he pulled the final stitch through the wound.

“Awe, come on Jaybird. You can’t be mad at that cute face.” Your head moved upwards motioning in Dick’s direction, the morphine taking hold.

“Looks pretty punchable to me.”

“Don’t worry,” you brought your hands up to cradle his face, “yours is still so much cuter.”

Dick’s face dropped, “Wait…are you two –”

His words were cut off as Jason quickly shut down the conversation. “Doll, I think it’s time for you to get some rest.”

You pursed your lips, “But I’m not tired.”

“I think you are.” Jason quickly scooped you into his arms and practically ran up the stairs, headed towards his old room.

[ectonurites]

Idk, I think I might like the idea of Batman not having a permanent sidekick/the Batkids all having more autonomy? Like, I’ve always thought the “Batman needs a Robin” argument was kind of concerning, like him needing a kid to keep him on the side of the angels is kind of bad mental health wise, and puts the onus of Bruce’s mental and emotional health on a literal child, which is just sketchy. And while I do like to see them all work together and interact, I think given what they’ve been through in recent years, how Bruce has acted and treated them all, and pretty much everything, some time apart from him could potentially be really good for all of them, especially since while they’re keeping their distance from him, they’re not shutting each other out and actually all going off on their own, they’re still all interacting with each other, and I like that very much. Weird how Jason’s pretty much the one who seems to be interacting with Bruce the most rn, but I actually kind of like that too!

Yeah no honestly i’m down for it. Like, again it’s not like all the bats aren’t talking to each other (we have seen even just in Robin #1 how they’re all coordinating to search for Damian) but I think letting them have that level of independence to figure things out on their own especially since aside from Damian most of them are older teens/adults anyways, I think is good (in theory, we’ll have to wait and see how it is in terms of execution since again we’re so early in Infinite Frontier still)

The idea of ‘Batman needs a Robin!’ coming from an idealistic 13 year old Tim I think served the purpose it needed to, because in that instance specifically Bruce was mourning the loss of a child and not that Jason could just easily be replaced, but having another child full of determination step into his life to be a bit of light in the darkness he was going through like... it worked, it made sense for the story, but I think we’re just in a different kind of era now and I’d agree that trying to put that kind of weight inherently on the role of Robin itself is... a lot for a kid. The thing with Tim too is that’s what he wanted Robin to be, which is very different than like... forcing that same expectation onto Damian’s version of Robin when he’s a very different kid with different goals/methods/outlook/etc

Then I’ve said it on twitter before but I think canon batfamily interactions are far better in smaller groups as opposed to just having the entire fam together to quip at each other. You can get much better moments that have more meaning in the smaller interactions (like... Tim & Cass’s stuff back in the 2000′s, Tim & Dick’s relationship, Dick & Damian’s, etc) as opposed to just fitting as many characters on a page as you can where they each get a line or two of dialogue. Not that there isn’t a place for that stuff occasionally, and obviously for the Big Event Fights its gonna be like that, but I’d much prefer to see more focused stuff on the smaller interactions, and then just those hints of coordination between the group at large (and like, having Oracle back at the center of things being the person to connect these different spheres in the Batfam is good and i’m glad to see it, I just wish she was ya know fully Oracle again without the ableist bs but ya know) 

And I think the choice to have Jason working with Bruce for a story right now is a good one, because they have the relationship that I think needs the most healing. (aside from maybe Bruce and Damian but that’s obviously not gonna be reaching reconciliation for a while since Damian’s off doing his own thing, and even so Bruce is now at least putting in the effort to look for him so that’s planting the seeds for something there later) 

In general like, I’m feeling hopeful about the current direction of batbooks. It’s not gonna be perfect, like of course not, but I think it’s pretty clear the people writing the books right now are putting a big emphasis on the family and trying to deal with some of the problems that have been around within it for a while, and trying to restore some things that people missed from that 90′s/2000′s era (again, Tynion has talked about that with the choice to have Babs acting as Oracle again in a few interviews)

[sparkleofpizza]

The archer - Tim Drake x reader 1/?

Hey guys, how are you doing? I have been working on this story for a while now and decided to finally post it, I am currently still writing the next parts because I decided to change a few ideas I had previously, but this is mainly just me giving Tim Drake some love and incorporating a bit of my love for Arrow too. Hope you guys like it and feel free to request me anything if you'd like, I write for the batboys, Wally and Conner. 

Requested: no

Warnings: some swearing

Summary: Y/n Queen will be living in the Wayne Manor for a while, and Dick Grayson decided to be the Cupid between her and his little brother Tim Drake.

Word count: 2.228

Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

The Wayne manor was silent that day, Bruce had everyone prepared for the arrival of a guest. The four boys were pissed off as why they had to make sure their rooms were organized, it was not like the guest would sleep in there. Dick and Jason didn't even live there anymore, but they gave up on arguing after one pointed look from Alfred.

When the doorbell finally rung, the boys were all too busy playing around in the cave - somewhere they found out they would have privacy, after all there was no way the guest would get there. So they weren’t there to greet you as you found your way around the house, after being greeted by Bruce and Alfred, letting them take your bags to the room you’d be staying at and showing you around.

You ended up standing in front of the clock, you knew pretty well what that clock meant, your brother had told you about that. You had a vague idea that the boys would be there - you really wanted to meet all of them - but didn’t want to intrude, this wasn’t your house after all and Bruce was already being nice enough to let you stay over while your brother was away in some business. So you went back to your room, deciding to meet them when was the right time.

And it actually didn’t take long for you to run into one of them. You collided with a huge body, making you land in your butt as you looked up to see none other than Jason Todd. He started down at you.

“Who are you?” He asked, frowning "Are you the guest Bruce told us about?"

“Hello to you too, Jason.” You rolled your eyes at the boys antics, pushing yourself up “It’s nice to see you again.”

He started at you for a few seconds before realization drowned on him. You are Y/N Queen, Oliver’s young sister and Roy’s ‘sister’ as well. He hasn’t seen you such a long time he almost didn’t recognize you.

“Y/N?!” He questioned, too surprised, patting your shoulder “Oh, it’s good to see you again. You look so different from the last time I saw you.”

“That’s because the last time you saw me I was sixteen.” You smirked up at him “Which means you’re getting a bit old.”

He narrowed his eyes at you “You’re like eighteen now or something?”

“Nineteen, actually.”

He nodded, leading you downstairs to the kitchen “Well, you’re still underage so you still have to respect me and do what I say.”

“When have I ever done something people tell me to do? I literally went after a serial killer on my own when I was fifteen just because Ollie told me to stay out of it.”

Jason nodded his head, remembering Roy complaining about something like that. He didn’t pay much attention at the story at the time because he thought it was boring and he had better things to think of, such as his revenge on Bruce, but now it seemed amusing a small girl like you trying something like that. He made a mental note to ask you more details about it later.

“I hope none of you are doing anything imprudent, we have a visitor and that would be really bad looking for you all.” Jason exclaimed, entering the kitchen with you by his side 

His three brothers were sitting on the counter, fighting over the last cookie Alfred had made earlier. Their heads shot up in curiosity trying to find out who was there with their brother. Hoping it wouldn't be the mysterious guest.

You stood still, pushing some hair from your face and offering them a friendly smile. Oliver has told you about them, even Roy filled you in on who they were, you’ve seen pictures of them, after all they were Bruce’s Wayne kids, but damn, you didn’t expect them to be this good looking in person. 

“Todd, who’s this?” A small boy questioned, holding up a knife to point at you

You chuckled at that “I’m y/n, it’s really nice to meet you. Maybe you should let go of that knife, kids shouldn’t hold things that can hurt them.”

“I’m not a kid!” He yelled 

His brothers laughed at his face, Tim already taking a liking into you. If you got to bother Damian in less than five minutes into conversation than you were cool. Dick though you were funny and Jason smiled proudly just because he knew you before everyone else.

“This are my brothers, Dick, Tim and Damian.” Jason introduced them to you 

You smiled once again, taking a sit across from where they were. 

“So...” Dick started “Y/n, when did you and Jason get together?”

“What? You think we’re dating?” You almost gagged, taking a look at the boy beside you. From all the stories you heard about him from Roy, you were 110% sure that you’d never be able to feel something more for him “We’re not together.” You chuckled at the end

Jason narrowed his eyes “Y/n is the guest Bruce told us about, but hold on a second... Why did you sound so disgusted?”

“Because anyone would be disgusted if someone thought they were dating you, Todd.” Damian rolled his eyes, earning a few laughs from his brother and you, and a death glare from Jason

“Roy just tells me so much shit about you, and you guys are glued. It would be like dating Roy, totally weird.”

“Oh, you’re friends with Roy?” Tim asked, leaning in a bit, curious about how much you knew about them all

You smiled directly at him, flipping some hair from your face. He stared at you for a while, mouth slightly open before quickly shutting it close. You were so pretty and what a perfect smile you have. 

“Yeah, I’ve known him almost my whole life.” You replied, frowning a bit, thinking back into old memories of when things went down hill, but quickly smiled again at boy in front of you “So I know plenty about all of you.” 

That gave him the answer he needed. You knew about their nightly activities, which was better than having to lie all the time. Not like he was expecting to have you around all the time, you were just staying for a while. But he wouldn’t mind staring at your gorgeous e/c eyes, and pretty conquer smile. 

Dick’s eyes went wide, looking at his brother and than at you. An idea already popping on his mind, if you weren’t dating Jason, maybe that meant you weren’t dating anyone, since you stated you also weren’t dating Roy. Big chances of you being single. Watching you and Tim interact made him want to play match maker, oh he was desperate to play match maker.

“How old are you, y/n?” He blurted out loudly 

“I’m nineteen, why?”

“Oh! Nothing! Just curiosity. Did you know Tim is twenty-one? Only two years older than you! Funny, right?”

You nodded, biting your lower lip to prevent yourself from laughing. Dick didn’t know how to be discreet.

It had been a couple of days since you’ve been at the manor and you noticed a couple of things:

1. Damian was a very hard person to socialize with, he was very judging and didn’t seem to enjoy your presence at all.

2. Jason was everything Roy told you about him, and that was kind of creepy.

3. Dick was definitely trying to play cupid, asking you random questions out of the blue and then stating facts about Tim.

4. Tim had a very weird sleeping pattern, was coffee addicted and the nicest to talk out of the four of them. 

You tried to live your days as normally as possible, but nothing normal is really normal in this family. You thought it was ok their vigilant routine, your brother was one as well, but weren’t they extreme sometimes?! No wonder Oliver said Bruce was uptight. They show zero emotions. 

You tried not to get in their way, not really bothering them when they were busy with patrol and cases. You figured your time of the day should be during the night, when the would be out of the manor and on the streets fighting crime. 

Going down to the kitchen to get some coffee, maybe something to eat and then you could silently laugh while watching Brooklyn 99. What you didn’t expect was to run into Tim during that.

He was pouring down coffee on his mug when you appeared on the doorway. He glanced up, smiling once he saw you.

“Did I wake you up?” He questioned, leaning down on the counter 

“No.” You shook your head, smiling back at him “I came to get some coffee. Shouldn't you be on patrol?" 

"It is my day off." Tim replied, watching you as he took a sip of his coffee

"So then... Can't sleep?"

“I normally don’t sleep. What about you?”

You arched your brows at that, pouring some hot coffee in a mug for you. Who normally doesn’t sleep?

“Just wanted to watch some Netflix in the quite of the night.” You shrugged “What do you normally do since you don’t sleep?”

"I just work on some cases."

That seemed unlikely. How could someone stay up all night just working on some cases? He certainly did other things, maybe he had a secret girlfriend and he would sneak her into his room at night and that's just what he told everyone he was doing? Working on some cases.

"But you do that all night? I doubt it's healthy. Don't you like have a secret girlfriend you're sneaking in and you just don't want anyone to find out about?"

Tim laughed at your statement, shaking his head. 

"I don't have any secret girlfriend or a real girlfriend for the matter. I like working at night. You could help me sometime, if you'd like?" A dust pink took over his cheeks, maybe he crossed the line by asking you join him in his room in the middle of the night, but you smiled at him 

"I'd love to help you on some cases. Shall we start now?"

He nodded, grabbing your hand and pulling you in towards his room. You smiled at the touch of your palms, his hand was way bigger than yours, but you liked how it felt against your skin. His fingers were cold. You could get used to holding hands with him, it felt nice.

You entered his room, looking at the place around you and seeing how it had so much of him in it. It smelled like coffee and his cologne, a nice combination. He closed the door behind you, leading you to his desk.

"So, what do you want me to help you with?" You questioned, leaning on the desk and staring at him 

He took a moment to admire you. Your face free of makeup, some natural redness on the skin that made you look cute, your hair down on your shoulders, and your comfy pijamas. 

"Have you ever worked on a case before?" You nodded, making him look at you with surprise. You smirked before he kept on talking "I'm trying to track down some of these weapon buyers, there's supposed to be a sale soon, but I can't point out the location yet."

"What are our leads?"

Tim smiled, showing you all the evidence he got before splitting up the job and the both of you starting to work. You sat on his bed with a laptop and he sat beside you with his own. Both clicking at the keyboard, trying to find new clues to find out the place of the weapon sale before it's too late. 

At some point of the night, you had decided to take a small break. Laying on your side, looking at Tim while he worked and holding a small conversation with him. But then you were too quiet and when he looked at you again, you had fallen asleep, holding on his shirt sleeve. 

He closed his laptop, carefully placing it on his night stand, trying not to disrupt you, and lied down himself. He tried to put some distance between your bodies, but you shifted only getting closer to him once you missed his body warmth, and he found himself trapped when you plopped a leg over his thighs. His cheeks turned red and he was really glad you were asleep so you wouldn't be able to see how flustered he was right now. 

Eventually, during the night, Tim wrapped his arms around you as your head was placed on top of his chest. And that's how Alfred found the both of you in the morning, having checked your room to wake you up for breakfast and being frighted to find an empty bed. 

"What you're staring at, Alfred?" Dick asked, waking past him on the hallway only to squeaky like a little kid once he saw you two asleep holding each other "I knew it! I knew they'd end up together!"

He grabbed his phone, snapping a couple of pictures before being rushed out of there by Alfred. Tim deserved some sleep, and the both of you looked too adorable together to be disturbed like that. 

[whetstonefires]

Do you think the DC fandom maybe, Infantilizes Tim a little too much? Like for a rich kid character who's main trauma for a long time was a getting left home alone too much there's an oddly amount of meta abt how much how much his parents hurt him~ compared to, y'know the two poor characters who grew up with physically abusive dad's+druggie mom's, or the two that were raised assassin cult's, etc

…well, yeah, I do kind of think that? His whole schtick for so long was being too old for his age in ways that didn’t sacrifice his jokey, relatable teenager energies. It’s weird how little of that we see anymore, sometimes.

And then DC broke him and discarded him and he’s sort of awkwardly hanging around getting reimagined as more woobie with every fan generation. It is weird!

But tbh I do get it. And I think the reason his parents’ failure of him and his vulnerability get played up so much, and Jason and Steph’s sufferings (while used a lot for things like motivation and context) not dwelt on quite so much in the same lugubrious style, are kind of the same reason.

Which is that canon didn’t commit to it. Jason and Steph’s experiences with bad parenting were foregrounded and retconned more dramatically awful several times. (There’s some definite classism in how that was approached imo, and I’m never budging on being mad about DC retconning out Catherine being sick and then ignoring her forever in all Jason characterization because a drug death invalidates a person ig, great message during the opioid crisis guys.)

They engaged and coped with it–Steph (and Cass, our #1 canon batfam parental abuse victim) pretty directly, Jason a little less so because of the dubious and fluctuating canon status of most of the content more specific than ‘poverty, homelessness, theft, parental drugs and crime in there somewhere,’ so most of his parent issues have been focused on Bruce. He sure has dug into them tho. 😂 Rarely well or productively, thanks DC, but it’s explicitly part of his character, is my point.

Whereas upper-middle-class Tim was always treated by the narrative as fortunate and unharmed by his experiences with his parents. Even though they were clearly behaving badly in several ways, and Tim showed signs of being harmed by it.

Tim outside of immediate moments of frustration always was of the opinion he was Fine, and Very Fortunate Actually.

Therefore a huge chunk of the numerous everyone who’s got parent-related mental and emotional harm, but has struggled to have that validated and hasn’t responded with a lot of anger toward the parent, identifies with Tim. The only one who’s never really lashed out at his parents for fucking up with him. The one who still needs it explored, because canon ultimately didn’t.

[editing post to put in a readmore because lol it’s long, post otherwise unchanged]

(Dick obviously didn’t ever have any Issues with the Graysons, but he Angry Teenagered at Bruce so hard it changed Bruce’s characterization permanently, rip.)

The things Jason, Steph, and Cass have been through are dramatic, obvious, and fit stereotypes because that’s what they’re based on.

That’s important content to have, but because it’s right out there in your face even people who identify with it quite a lot are less likely to feel the need to work all the way through it again in fanworks. That part’s there. It’s text.

(Well actually Jason having been physically abused kind of wasn’t? I think? It was mostly assumed on the basis of stereotyping and Jason’s not caring about the man much even as he felt possessive of information about his death, which is valid. I don’t actually know what’s up with Willis now, Lobdell did some weird shit that lacked emotional resonance or staying power because he’s Lobdell and has no soul.

Cass’ wandering years are also ludicrously underdeveloped. But very very few comics fans or writers can personally relate to being amazing child warriors with no grasp of language living feral under bridges. That part of her life is consistently represented in terms of absences, in terms of its deviation from the norm and the deficits of normality it left her with, which is typical but unfortunate.) 

-

The interesting things to do with these characters are often informed by the bad stuff in their childhoods, but there’s relatively rarely that much more to say about the fact that those things were bad. They know they’re bad. They’ve had a lot of on-panel rage about it, as discussed above. Steph and Cass both beat the shit out of their dads.

Jason is, in fandom especially, a sort of Platonic ideal of a kid who’s mad about his bad childhood and really bad at figuring out where to point that rage.

(Damian is a whole other kettle of fish, because he’s been lumbered by so many detailed retcons coming so fast no two people can seem to construct compatible models of what his early childhood was like, and even more because he’s still ‘a child’ enough that he’s necessarily in a different stage of processing than someone who’s officially only a few years older than him at this point, but still functionally 8 and also 20 years older, and whose parents are no longer in the picture to continue screwing up.

Also there’s no question that if he brings up an abusive thing the League did, he will be validated by his current environment about his realization that it was in fact bad. There’s a lot of fic on that theme! But it doesn’t have the same tone precisely because it is usually understood that that support will be there if he wants it. Realizing that his previous context contained things that were wrong keeps being made the focus of his arc.)

The badness of Tim’s childhood, on the other hand, was mainly in subtext. Even when we were clearly meant to understand Jack was fucking up, like when he canceled plans with Tim at the last minute to go on a date with Tim’s stepmother, or that infamous time he came to apologize for not being a great parent and got mad Tim was distracted by a crisis on TV so he flew into a rage and took the TV and smashed it and was like ‘that’ll teach you,’ it wasn’t leaned into.

The story didn’t treat Jack as a minor villain to be overcome but like a sort of environmental hazard of childhood, like homework, to be endured and coped with. Tim said things like ‘it’s fine’ and ‘at least he left the computer.’

(And like. It’s not about having a TV and computer in his room. It’s about not letting a child have boundaries, pointedly not respecting a child’s possessions, creating an emotionally insecure environment, punishing minor infractions in proportion to their momentary impact on your own ego, physically lashing out at a proxy for the child…)

Rather like Tom King later didn’t understand about the punching from Bruce, whoever did that story (probably Dixon? I don’t care enough to check) did not understand how serious a case of bad parenting that scene was. That is most definitely textbook abusive behavior. (It’s a hell of a lot more common abusive behavior than being a lame supervillain or shooting you when you screw up, and a lot more specific than ‘was a thug, might have hit me, dead now.’)

And Tim was never allowed to be mad at his parents about it. It was fine. He needed to be ignored so he had the freedom to be Robin. He deserved his dad being mad at him because he was keeping secrets. He complained too much, although objectively he did not.

The universe punished him for ‘complaining,’ more than once. We cut straight from him shunting aside his disappointment that his postcard from his parents was just to say they weren’t coming home yet after all with ‘if it will stop all the fights they’ve been having lately it’s more than fine’ to them getting kidnapped.

He agreed not to come on the rescue mission. His mom never made it home, and his dad was in a coma for a while. And then ultimately Jack died as a result of Tim’s decision to be Robin, immediately after finally deciding to accept it.

So Tim walks around feeling a huge burden of responsibility for his parents’ deaths, and completely unable to process any hurt they did him as real or valid, especially in comparison with the far more blatant awfulness other people have been through, and canon is clearly never going to address it. Or even acknowledge it properly.

Let me repeat that because it’s kind of my main point:

People are fixated on getting Tim’s emotional abuse validated because that’s an incredibly important step in recovering from emotional abuse, and it’s one canon consistently denied him.

How ‘bad’ things are ‘in comparison to’ problems other people have is a bad and unhealthy way to engage with trauma. Okay? That’s just a really harmful framework to apply to pain.

It’s also a way that both Tim and people with experiences similar to Tim’s are encouraged to engage with their own experiences, compounding the existing problems.

So. Not a form of relatable DC was ever actually aiming for when they tried so hard (and pretty effectively) to make him a relatable character as Robin, but an enduring one for a lot of fans.

-

So Tim’s childhood is a natural target for fanworks in a different way than the traumas that have been made explicit and taken seriously by the text. And then a lot of that got compounded by the way the introduction of Damian as Robin was handled, and the lack of resolution that got. And his current status as not quite having a place in the family anymore.

So between the level of projection encouraged by that context and how relatively difficult to access Tim’s Robin run has become ten years after the fact, this has led to a lot of fanworks on these themes that are based mostly on other fanworks, and stray further and further from the original content.

So at this point there’s an entire wing of Tim’s fandom wherein this side of him has expanded enormously, and he primarily exists to suffer, frequently in ways that 1) escalate to a point that is inarguably ‘valid’ and hard to dismiss and 2) set him up to rebound from it in whatever way the writer finds emotionally satisfying or useful–being ultimately cared for and reassured by people who value him (the most infantilizing option but like, popular for obvious reasons), or unveiling his brilliant scheme that was causing him to pretend to be passive in the face of mistreatment, or turning around and using his genius ninja skills to wrest power back from his abusers, or just laying down some sick burns about being treated fairly.

But not that many of the last one, because that’s mostly done with other batfam members.

Tim’s become a vehicle for a lot of vicarious coping that Steph and Jason just aren’t appropriate for, because they get angry and they get even. And those are stories that exist already, so there’s less scope for telling your own.

And because Jason’s reaction pattern is ultimately so masculine (i’ll make them all sorry! with my guns! blam blam!) while Tim’s is pretty gender-neutral, the demographics of fanfic mean that the bulk of the people using Tim vicariously in this manner are female-aligned, which has over time feminized this archetype of him a lot. Sometimes in ways I find really uncomfortable, like there’s a lot of forced pregnancy stuff which activates my panic buttons. x.x

But, ultimately, it’s fandom. People are going to do what they’re going to do, DC in their perpetual fail has hung Tim out to dry in narrative terms, and I’d rather the people who are using Tim for victimization narratives over the people who can’t dismiss or discredit him fast enough now that his position has been filled. 🤷‍♀️ What we gonna do? Fave’s in an awkward spot. DC hates us. This is the life in this comic book pit. XD

-

Also if you’re the same anon who left me a callout about op of that weird Steph post in my inbox, or if you aren’t @ that person, 1) I refuse to get involved so I’m not answering that ask 2) those aren’t even particularly dramatic fandom crimes? That’s pretty normal? That’s just…Caring Too Much About Ships And Disagreeing With Me.

Do I also feel those opinions are kinda bad? Yeah. But I disagree with everyone about something. Chill.

[afni-fics]

Red Robin: In Hindsight - Chapter 1 (In the Present... Memento)

In Hindsight: Chapter 1 (In the Present... Memento) (3266 words) by C_R_Scott Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Tim Drake/Tam Fox, Jack Drake/Janet Drake, Janet Drake & Tim Drake, Jack Drake & Tim Drake, Lucius Fox/Tanya Fox, Tim Drake & Tam Fox Characters: Tim Drake, Tam Fox, Janet Drake, Jack Drake, Lucius Fox, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Jason Todd Additional Tags: Tim Drake-centric, Family Drama, Family Secrets, Family Feels, Childhood Friends, Childhood Trauma, Childhood Memories, Childhood Sweethearts, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Story Summary:

What if bleeding out in a Middle Eastern hotel room was not the first time Timothy Drake-Wayne and Tamara Fox met? What if they were actually childhood best friends, but life and circumstance forced them apart for years to the point of forgetting each other?

Concept/Prompt: What if Tim Drake was originally raised by his maternal grandmother for the first eight years of his life due to "circumstances" involving his biological parents? What if Tim's grandmother was also the next door neighbor and occasional sitter for Lucius Fox's family?

Chapter Summary: It's another rough night in Gotham City. The Scarecrow is on the loose and the Bats are out in force trying to recapture him. Unfortunately, Red Robin got hit with large dose of fear toxin and had to retreat to a safe place to administer the antidote and wait for it to kick in. The closest safe place just happens to be Tam Fox's apartment.

(A/N: All "In the Present..." events take place post-Red Robin #26)

---

"--ed Robin? Can you hea--"

Tim groaned softly as he slowly clawed his way back into some semblance of consciousness. Almost by reflex, he began going down a silent mental checklist to determine his current situation:

"Uniform, cowl, belts in place... Still Red Robin... Not disarmed... Not disabled... Okay...

"No sounds of combat... City noises muffled... Carpet beneath me... Indoors... Apartment?... So far so good...

"Groggy... Vision blurry... Hearing ok... Movements sluggish... Drugged maybe?... I can work with this..."

"Tim? Are you... alright?"

"And that was my real name... Well shit."

Gingerly, Tim tried to push himself up off the floor. A glance around himself revealed he had been lying amidst what appeared to be the remains of a wooden bookshelf along with its contents and a disturbingly large amount of shattered glass in some unlucky civilian's living room. Then his head turned to the source of the voice that had pulled him back to awareness. A lump rose uncomfortably into his throat.

"Tam?"

Kneeling a yard or so away from him was Tamara Fox, with a nervous wide-eyed expression, clutching an empty auto-injector pen with an orange label that Tim recognized from his own utility belt stash as fear toxin antidote. 

Tim felt a spike of panic as he looked into Tam's face. "Oh God!" he exclaimed as he tried get to his feet as quickly as he could. "Are you alright?! Did I hurt you?!" Unfortunately, as soon as he got to his feet, the world pitched sideways and he nearly felt fell back to the floor, were it not for Tam rising to her own feet to help steady him.

"Woah there!" Tam said as she tried to help the unbalanced vigilante stay upright. "I'm fine. Don't worry. I'm ok." Then she glanced around the apartment with a weary sigh. "My living room, on the other hand, not so much."

Tim grimaced as he followed her gaze around the room. Near as he could figure, he could visualize how he must have crashed through the glass balcony door while trying to grapple between buildings, based on the gaping hole letting all the cold Gotham air in from her balcony. Following the shard pattern of the broken glass on the floor, he could see how he must have been flying with some speed and hadn't even been able to slow his descent before crashing, if the evidence of the demolished bookshelf that had been leaning against the wall opposite the balcony and the prominent new aches in his own body was any indication.

"I heard on the news that the Scarecrow was on the loose," Tam said as she tried to ease him to the sofa so he could sit down. "I guess you got hit with fear toxin?"

Tim nodded as he sat down, then pushed back his cowl to reveal his face, savoring the cool air as it hit his skin. "Last thing I remember is trying to get somewhere safe to take the antidote and ride things out," he murmured as he scrubbed his face with his hands. "I thought I was trying to get to a safehouse we have in the area."

Tam sat down on the arm of the sofa, her back to the recovering vigilante, and looked at the empty antidote pen in her hand. "And yet you ended up here..." she mused.

"I'm really, really sorry Tam," Tim apologized as he raked his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair. "I don't know what happened or what I was thinking with the fear toxin took hold." He dared to glance at her out of the corner of his eyes. "Are you sure you're alright? I really didn't hurt you?"

Tam shrugged, then glanced back at him out of the corner of her own eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine. Whatever that Scarecrow put in that toxin didn't make you go crazy violent or anything." She looked back at the remains of her bookshelf where she'd found him curled up in a fetal position, disturbingly still and silent. "You... you'd gone completely catatonic." She wrapped her arms around herself tightly. "Nothing I said or did reached you, and for a bit the antidote didn't seem to be working. I thought..." Tam shook her head and got to her feet. "It doesn't matter what I thought. The antidote kicked in finally and you'll be ok now, right?"

"Yeah. I'll be ok." Tim watched sadly as Tam immediately knelt down to gather up some of the books that had been scattered by the destruction of their shelves. As she worked, he made a few mental notes about the effects of the Scarecrow's new fear toxin. The old toxin was known for triggering horrific visions and violent reactions in its victims. This new version, triggering catatonia instead of violence, could potentially be a greater threat against anyone in Gotham's vigilante family seeking to subdue the villain.

Tim ought to have been reaching out to Batman and the rest of his family to warn them about this new variant.

However, he couldn't get his mind off the fact that somewhere in the back of his brain, while Scarecrow's fear toxin was trying to take root, the closest safe place he instinctively tried to go to was Tamara Fox's home... no matter how broken their friendship was right now.

"Here. Let me help," Tim offered as he cautiously got to his feet and tested his balance, which was better than it was earlier. 

Tam tried to wave him away, though, as she set a stack of books on the sofa and out of the way. "Don't worry about it," she said in a tense voice as she reached for what looked like an old leather bound book. "It's fine. I'm fine. Shouldn't you be getting ba--"

Whatever she was about to say was cut off abruptly when, upon trying to lift up the book by its spine, about thirty pages full of photographs spilled out all over the floor. Tam could only stare at the mess of her beloved childhood memories scattered at her feet, until she felt hot tears begin to fill her eyes.

"Goddamnit," she snapped softly in frustration, her voice breaking slightly as she closed her eyes tightly. "Well isn't this just a perfect metaphor for my life right now?"

Tim looked and felt absolutely gutted the moment he saw and heard all those photo album pages spill onto the floor. For a moment, he was as frozen in place as Tam, unable to do anything except stare at those pictures, at Tam's precious memories scattered haphazardly around her

However, as Tam sank to the floor with another frustrated sob, clutching the remains of her album tight to her chest. he finally jolted into movement. 

"I am so... so sorry Tam," he apologized with deep, sincere regret as he knelt beside her and began to carefully gather up the photo pages. The childhood photographer he once was chided him mercilessly in the back of his mind for being the cause of this damage. 

Tam sniffled a little and used her free hand to try and scrub the tears from her eyes. "I know... I know..." she murmured as she recomposed herself, set aside the remains of the album cover, and started collecting some of of the photo pages herself. Between the two of them, it should've taken no time at all to pick up all the pictures.

At least, that's how it should have been.

Though the light in the living room wasn't the greatest, only a single nearby floor lamp close to the sofa provided any illumination, Tim kept pausing every now and then to take closer looks at the images, slowing his progress.

These were all clearly pictures of Tam and her family back when she was a child in and around her childhood home when she was maybe nine or ten years old. Everyone looked happy, or at the very least content. He also recognized a younger Lucius Fox interspersed among the pages as well as who he assumed was Tam's mom, her older sister Tiffany, and her younger brother Luke when he was still a toddler.

They were nice photos full of what looked like warm, happy memories.

So why were they giving him such a strange nagging feeling of deja vu?

Tim noticed the corner of a photo that had been dislodged from its album page. Unlike the other photos in the album which were all standard 4"x6" glossy prints, this one appeared to be more squarish in shape with an obvious white border that was thicker at one end.  "A Polaroid?" Tim thought to himself curiously as he tugged the photo out from under the other pages. "I haven't seen one of those in years..."

Then, as Tim got a good look at the photo, his breath caught in his throat.

In the photo a young boy and girl were sitting close together on a wooden porch swing, both smiling brightly on a warm summer day. The girl was hugging the boy, who looked a few years younger, as he appeared to have both arms outstretched in front of him just off the image, as if he had been holding the Polaroid camera to take the picture. On the white section of the photograph right beneath the image are words written in black marker by a childish hand.

"Timber & Tami - July 19, 20XX"

About that moment, Tam noticed the photo in Tim's hand. Her gaze softened. "That's my favorite picture," she said fondly as she reached out to tilt the image slightly her way, though she didn't try to take it from Tim. 

"Who... was he?"

Tam couldn't help the sad, nostalgic smile that formed on her lips. "He was my best friend." She sighed softly as she continued reminiscing. "He lived next door to me and was raised by his grandma. We practically grew up together because Nana was always babysitting me while my parents were at work."

She glanced at the photos in her hands, and the ones still on the floor. "He was such a geek about cameras and photography," she chuckled warmly. "I remember, Nana gave him this vintage Polaroid camera for his eighth birthday. He was so excited, you'd think he'd won the lotto. I think... this was the first picture he ever took with it." She glanced at the photos in her hands and still on the floor. "He took most of these other ones too, and he gave me the album for my birthday before--"

"Before?"

Tam sighed. "Before his Nana got sick, and he had to move away."

It took a long minute, but finally Tam noticed Tim was strangely quiet. When she turned her attention from the photos to him, she was startled to see him staring at her with an intense wide-eyed expression she'd never seen in those blue eyes before. For the first time in the year since she'd met him, he looked like he was close to tears.

He looked at her like he was staring at a ghost.

Tam felt a tendril of unease coil in her chest. "Tim? What's wro--"

"Tami?" he whispered to her in a small, vulnerable tone. When he spoke again, his voice was thick with emotion and completely unguarded. "Is it really you?"

At first Tam was confused. She glanced between the Polaroid photo held in Tim's now trembling hand before her gaze drifted back up to his face and looked into eyes that were suddenly more familiar than they'd ever been before.

Suddenly, her world shifted.

Tam's own brown eyes went wide with shock as she tried to stifle a gasp with her hands. Then, slowly, she lowered her fingers from her lips.

"Timber?" 

The tears that had been threatening to escape Tim's startled blue eyes finally coursed down his cheeks with Tam's word. There was so much emotion warring on his face, and while his mouth opened and closed, nothing seemed able to come out. 

Tim reached out for Tam, who was still frozen in her own silent shock.

But before he could reach her, Tim's communicator began to ping, cutting through the silence between them and making both of them jump. Tim's hand retracted away sharply, as if he'd been burned. After taking a second to compose himself, he reached up to press a button on the communicator in his ear.

"Red here," he said, his voice all business, all Red Robin, but stretched tight to near the point of breaking.

"Thank goodness," Oracle's synthesized voice on the comm crackled to life. "Batman and Robin need backup. Batgirl and Nightwing both got hit with fear toxin, but their trackers haven't moved in several minutes."

Tim rose grimly to his feet and turned toward the doorless balcony. "Crane's got a new variant. Triggers catatonia instead of fight or flight. The current antidote works, but takes longer to kick in." He checked his belts to see how many more doses of antidote he had. "If they're immobile either they took the antidote and we're just waiting for it to take effect, or they went catatonic before they could administer in the first place." He sighed as he pulled out his grapple gun to insert a new cartridge. "Who's closest to my location?"

"Nightwing. Sending you coordinates for both."

"I'll be there soon. Make sure to warn B and Robin about the variant. Red out."

Once the comm was disconnected, Tim bowed his head. When he spoke, his Red Robin tone was nowhere to be heard. "I'm sorry Tam..." he whispered, voice full of regret and longing and... something else neither of them could identify. "I have to go--"

But as he turned to glance back timidly at her, Tim's eyes went wide when he suddenly found himself tightly wrapped up in a pair of soft warm arms. His breath hitched in his chest as he felt, more than heard, Tam sob into his shoulder, "It's you."

Without even thinking, Tim wrapped his arms around Tam, pulling her closer and tucking his own face into the crook of her neck. He held her tighter than he ever had before in this past year. All his emotions felt raw and exposed, but in this moment that was ok.

This was his Tami...

His big sister...

His best friend...

His first-- 

With a deep, shuddering sigh, Tim pulled back slightly, just enough to speak clearly. "I need to go."

Tam pulled back slowly too, until just their hands were interlaced. Finally, she raised her gaze to meet his. "Be careful," she whispered. The weight of so many other things they wished to say to one another hangs in the space between them, and they both know it.

Tim nodded wordlessly. Then, with painful reluctance, he slipped his fingers from her grasp, pulled his cowl back on launched a grappling line out of Tam's apartment. He spares just one final backward glance, his expression masked almost completely by his cowl, before launching himself into back into the night.

Once Tam can no longer see his silhouette against Gotham's skyline, she shivers as a cold wind cuts through her apartment. As she kneels down again to gather her photos, she pulls out her phone with a free hand.

"Hello?"

"Daddy?"

"Tami? What's wrong?"

At the sound of naked concern in her father's voice, Tam's couldn't hold back the tears as they stream down her face or the way her voice trembled and made her feel ten-years-old and broken-hearted in a way she never thought she'd ever feel again.

"Nothing..? Everything..? I don't know..? Can you pick me up please? Can I come home?"

"Of course. Where are you?"

"The apartment." 

"Stay right there, baby. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"I will."

Once the call was ended, Tam's eyes fell on that precious old Polaroid photo. With another sob, she gathered it up and held it close as she cried softly until her father arrived.

[heyitsani]

Feel the Adrenaline Moving

Keep on Truckin’ AU Part 1

Word Count: 2494

Rating: Teen and Up

Warnings: Robincest (obviously even if they’re not siblings in this au), mentions of gunshot wound, mentions of past child abuse by a bad parent

Pairing: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd

Summary: Food Truck Owner!Jason and Police Officer!Dick have spent the last couple of months flirting with each other the few times a week Dick orders food from Jason's food truck. When they finally decide to go on a date and Dick stands him up, Jason is left wondering if he had been wrong about the other man all along.

Notes: This idea stemmed from the idea of a no capes AU where Jason owns a food truck with Artemis and Dick is a GPD officer who is obsessed with his food.  Dick and Tim were both adopted by Bruce and Damian is still his son through Talia, a failed relationship years prior where she never told him she was pregnant.  I have not introduced the other members of the batfam (though Babs is an exception because she’s mentioned as an ex and still friend in the current installment I’m working on), but have their introductions to the story already planned out.  

Jason is softer in this AU because while he has some childhood trauma, it’s not nearly as bad as his canonical trauma.  So I’ve been exploring the side of him that could have been, if you get what I mean.

Also, if you do not like the pairing then just move along.  Or block me.  I can and will block any rude or hateful comments.  I have both traditional and nontraditional siblings and don’t need to hear about how I don’t support adoptive families.  THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.  Just because I write murder doesn’t mean I support murder.  Capisce?  Good.

You can also read this on AO3 here

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

“This is stupid.  How do we even know this is the right truck?”

“Don’t play stupid, Harper.  He was extremely specific.  Egg rolls made with things like bacon mac or Reubens.  Hot guy, dark hair, white streak in front, and arms to die for.  This is obviously him.”

Jason raised an eyebrow at the two arguing redheads, curious why they were looking for him and his truck.  Thankfully, the rush had passed and now it would just be the stragglers until they closed up shop for the day.

The pair turned to face the order window to find Jason there, arms folded on the counter and an amused smirk on his face.

“Jason?”

“So it would appear.  That was an oddly specific description.  Can I help you guys?”  He watched the pair exchange a look before the more rugged looking of the two stepped forward.

“We’re here because of Dick.”  And of all the scenarios running through his head, Dick had not been involved in any of them.

“I see,” Jason said sharply, smirk fading to a scowl.  “He has made his point perfectly clear without sending his harem of redheads to clarify.”

“What point?”

“Harem of redheads?”  But Jason just raised an eyebrow.

“Ah fuck, Wally.  Dick was right.”  The man looked to Wally and then back to Jason.  “Look, I’m Roy Harper and this is Wally West.  Dickie is our best friend and whatever point you think he’s making, he’s not.  Trust me.”

“He’s in the hospital.  Got shot in the chest on the job two weeks ago and just regained consciousness yesterday,” Wally relayed, and Jason had to grip the counter to keep upright.

“He…Is he going to be okay?”  And wow did he feel like an ass.

“Yeah.  Doctors said maybe two more days before he can go home.  It was bad there for a while but they kept him in the medically induced coma so he could heal without his usual bullshit of getting up too early.  But look,” Roy crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes at Jason, “You need to come to Gotham General.  Once he was fully awake, he started freaking out about you.  Something about a date, missed calls and texts, and you hating him.”

“Jesus, Roy.  Dickie said to just tell him what happened.  Not to guilt the guy into a visit.”  Wally smacked Roy’s upper arm with the back of his hand.  “Though, yeah,” he turned back to Jason, “Dick would probably weep tears of joy if you showed up.  He was pretty wrecked.”

Jason wasn’t quite sure what to say, still working the fact that Dick had been shot and hadn’t just ditched him.  He had spent the last two weeks wondering what it was he had done.  He had gone over that last in-person interaction and the text message thread, wracking his brain for any kind of hint.  And the first week had tried to text and call but had been met with silence.  So, the past week he had convinced himself that Dick had just been fucking with him all along and never meant any of it.  Now he was hearing the other man had nearly died and Jason had been the ass who had thought the man was just ghosting him.

“Did we break him?”

“Shut it, West.  Look man, he’s in room 212 at GG.  Give us a last name to go with Jason and we’ll put you on the visitor’s list.”

“Visitor’s list?”

“Comes with being Bruce Wayne’s son.”  Jason gave Wally a weird look.

“His last name is Grayson…?”

“Yeah, but Bruce adopted him.  Took him in after-“ Roy covered Wally’s mouth with his hand and glared at the other man.

“Shut the fuck up, West,” Roy growled and hell if that didn’t just pique Jason’s interest.  “Now give us an order of whatever is Dickhead’s favorite so we can get a smile on his pathetic face.”  Jason stood frozen for a moment before waving away Roy’s credit card and hanging the closed sign.  He quickly whipped up an order of the bacon mac ‘n cheese rolls and an order of churros before bagging it all up.

“My last name is Todd.  Get me on the list,” Jason said as he stepped out of the truck and handed the bag of food over.  “I gotta clean this shit up because hazard and all that, but I’ll come by after I’m done.”

“Good,” was all Roy said as he grabbed the bag and turned to leave.

“Nice to meet you man!  See you around, hopefully,” Wally called out as Roy grabbed his arm and dragged him away.

Jason wasn’t sure what he had been expecting once he finally got to Dick’s room at the hospital, but a fancy and very private suite was not it.  And even less than that, a fifteen or sixteen-year-old kid fussing over Dick while Dick just smiled at the kid fondly. 

“Dames, stop,” Dick laughed softly, reaching out to stop the kid from messing with the pillows again.  “I’m good.  Just go meet Jon already.”

“Tt,” the kid responded before turning to grab his bag from the chair next to Dick’s bag.  When he tensed all over, Jason knew he had been spotted.  “Who the hell are you?  This is supposed to be a private room, not some free for all.”  Wow. 

“Jason,” Dick’s surprised voice cut in.  Jason looked from the kid to Dick and practically melted at the look on his face.  Surprised, yes, but the warmth was there and god if Jason didn’t want to just cross the room and press his lips to the other mans.

“Dick, I’m so glad you’re okay.”  He took two steps into the room before the kid was standing in front of him, almost the same height as him but much leaner compared to Jason’s bulk.  Raising a brow, Jason stared the kid down and waited. 

“Dami, stop.  This is Jason, my friend who owns the food truck.”  The kid didn’t move or acknowledge Dick’s words.  “Damian, knock it off.”  Authority slipped into Dick’s tone and Jason wanted to smirk in victory when Damian tensed but backed off.  “Jon is waiting,” Dick reminded him gently and with a grunt and one last glare sent to Jason, Damian was storming out of the room.

“Fun kid,” Jason commented, looking back toward the door before closing the rest of the space between him and Dick’s bedside.  “Jesus, Dick.  I almost dropped when Roy and Wally told me what happened.  I’m so fucking glad you’re okay.”

“They didn’t guilt you into coming here, did they?  They can be a bit much at the same time when you don’t know them.”  Shaking his head, Jason tugged the chair closer to the bed and sat down.  Without allowing himself to overthink it, he grabbed Dick’s hand in his and held it with both of his.  The smile he got in return was well worth it.

“Nah, they just told me what happened.  Said you’d like it if I stopped by and asked for my last name.”  Dick nodded and sunk a little deeper into the pillows piled up behind him.  “So, Damian is your…?”

“Oh.  Brother.  I know those idiots let slip that Bruce Wayne is my adoptive father, but Damian is Bruce’s only actual blood son.  Tim and I were both adopted after our parents died.”  Jason wanted to know more about that, but the look on Dick’s face told him he wasn’t quite ready to let him in on that darkness.

“He’s a very intense kid.  How old is he?”

“Sixteen going on sixty,” Dick laughed.  “He’s a good kid, despite the glare and protectiveness.  He didn’t have the easiest beginning.  B didn’t even know about him until he was eight.  Lesson learned: protection is never a guarantee.”  Jason laughed at that and shook his head.

“So, his mom was not a good parent?”

“The only person worse than her was her father.”  Dick’s face turned from amused to angry faster than Jason realized he could and he was surprised at the fire there.  “When LA Social Services called and told Bruce about Damian, he was…it was bad.”  Jason squeezed Dick’s hand and the other man gave him a thankful smile.  “Tim and I came from homes that knew love.  Damian, I don’t think he had ever known love of any kind until he came to Gotham.”

“Poor kid.”  Dick nodded sadly.  “But he seemed pretty fond of you in the few seconds before he noticed me.”

“Yeah,” Dick agreed, and the smile was back on his face.  “Bruce is a great man and a good father, but he’s not the most emotionally available man.  He struggled with Damian when he came to live with him.  Tim was a teenager already and I had moved out on my own, so B was pretty much on his own.  But then he called me one night and begged me to help because he didn’t know if he was just screwing up Damian more than he already was.”

Well, fuck.  How shitty was it that a man could tell he was not the best option for his own child’s mental and emotional health but that his older son was?  Jason couldn’t imagine feeling so poorly about himself and that said something because he didn’t like himself most days.

“I moved back home and took a sabbatical from work in order to help.  It was hard and there were plenty of times I would shut myself in my room and ask what the hell I was trying to accomplish, but Damian eventually improved.”  Letting out a sigh, Dick looked down at Jason with a hint of sadness.  “I think sometimes B wishes he hadn’t called me in.  He and Dami…they’re not close.  They respect each other, and B loves him like he loves Tim and me, but when Dami does something to be proud of it’s me who he comes to.”

“He views you as a father more than his actual father.”  Dick hummed and looked over toward the window, avoiding commenting on it.  “Is that a point of contention between you and Bruce?”

“Not really, at least not that he allows it to be.  But like I said, he’s not good with the emotions.  Its just, sometimes I can see regret so plainly written on his face when I’m talking to Dami.  It’s hard to miss sometimes.”

“And that makes you feel guilty.” A statement, not a question.

“Yeah…”  Dick’s voice is quiet, but Jason knows him well enough now to hear the regret.

“Have you talked to Damian about it before?”  Dick shook his head and looked back to Jason with a curious look.  “I was just wondering what he thought of it all.”

Jason can tell Dick is mulling over the idea of asking Damian about the fact that he viewed Dick as his dad and not Bruce, but he can also see the moment when Dick rejects the idea for now.  Not that Jason blames him.  The kid had been intense, and he had come across as smart, so part of him probably knew.  If it had been Jason in Damian’s place, he probably would have some resentment toward his actual father for basically pawning him off to his brother when it got to be too much.

“This was so not the conversation I thought we would have when I came,” Jason offered as an out of the current topic.  He could see the appreciation in Dick’s smile and the slight shift of his shoulders as he relaxed.

“What did you expect?”

“Profuse apologies because your redheads had made it seem like you were pretty worried that I hated you.”  Dick laughed hard, holding his middle where Jason assumed were some of the wounds that had caused this whole mess.

“They made it clear that you weren’t mad.  I figured I could save the apologies for when I wasn’t laid up in the hospital.”

“Fair enough.  Though,” Jason leaned forward and looked at Dick closely, “you don’t owe me any apologies.  This situation isn’t anywhere near being your fault.”

“Still upset I missed our date.  I had the whole thing planned.”

“Well, you can go through with that plan when you are back to full mobility.  Until then, I’d be happy to accommodate to your situation.”  Dick’s smile was practically blinding, and Jason squeezed his hand.  The intense desire to kiss the other man hit him suddenly but not too surprisingly.  “I’d really like to kiss you right now.”  The words came out before he could stop them.

“I’d really like you to kiss me,” Dick responded, smile growing even brighter.  And Jason wished he could figure out how he managed to be so beautiful.  But he would have to try and figure that out later.  For now, he just focused on releasing Dick’s hand and pressing a palm to his cheek as he leaned forward and pressed their mouths together.

And god if it didn’t feel like coming home after being gone for years.

Dick’s lips were slightly chapped from the dry, hospital air and his breath was a little stale but the whole thing was so utterly perfect that Jason could feel his chest tighten with the emotion.  Keeping in mind his still healing chest, Jason ended the kiss sooner than he would have liked.  Pulling back, he pressed one quick kiss to the corner of Dick’s mouth before pulling back even further to look at the other man.  What he found made him want to ignore the chest wound Dick had and just dive right back in.

Dark lashes fluttering against golden cheek bones and lips parted just slightly.  He hoped he never forgot this image.

“I can’t wait until this heart rate monitor won’t alert everyone to just how much you affect me,” Dick muttered, opening his eyes to reveal sapphire rings around black pupils blown wide with lust.

“Just focus on healing that chest wound.  Then I’ll happily let you figure out just how much of me you can and can’t handle.”

“Deal,” Dick whispered, pushing up to press their mouths together one last time before falling back into the pillows again. 

Jason chuckled and ran his fingers along Dick’s cheek bone before dropping back down into the chair he had previously been sitting in and letting his hands fall into his lap.

“So, Wally and Roy aren’t my only redhead friends and the fact that you called just the two of them a harem was so accurate I thought I had pulled my stitches from laughing so hard when they told me.”  Jason looked at him for a moment before laughing loudly and shaking his head.

“Well then the name is definitely sticking around.”

“I’ll be sure to warn the others.”

And Jason couldn’t help but chuckle as he reached for Dick’s hand again.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #284

“mama, we’re all full of lies / mama, we’re meant for the flies”

When was the last time you changed a lightbulb? About a month or so back I had to change Venus’ heat lamp. Who was the last person you sent an e-mail to? I emailed my older sister the OneDrive link to her holiday pictures I did. When was the last time you visited the dentist? What about the optician? It’s been quite a few months since I went to the dentist for a normal cleaning. I haven’t seen an eye doctor in around a year or so because it’s a less pressing matter, and we can’t afford to buy me new glasses anyway. I desperately need them. Do you sleep on your side, your back or your front? My side, stomach, or like a contortion of both. Would you rather drive or be the passenger? Let me be shotgun controlling the music and I’m set for a long ride. When was the last time you received a handwritten letter? Sara sent me one I think two years ago for my birthday. If you have pets, do you buy them gifts for Christmas or their birthdays? Ha, yes. We don’t know either’s exact birthday though, so we don’t really “celebrate” those. Do you know how to ride a bike? How about ride a skateboard? A bike, yeah. I don’t know how to skateboard, though. Did you get enough sleep last night? How much sleep is enough sleep for you? No. I don’t even know what “enough sleep” is. I’m always tired. What are your favourite condiments? Do you use those often? Ketchup and honey mustard probably top the list, considering they’re the ones I use most. Peanut butter: crunchy or smooth? Do you have a favorite brand? I trust no one who can enjoy crunchy peanut butter. I like Skippy quite a bit. Do you have any life-threatening allergies? No. Have you had to take a COVID test yet? Was it positive or negative? I haven’t needed to take one. Do you think it’s okay to keep cats indoors for their entire lives? They SHOULD be. Cats are very destructive and disruptive predators of once-stable environments. They fuck up the food chain and have done a lot of damage to native populations. This is coming from a person whose house was an absolute NEST for cats to the point they were taken away. They lived outside, and I can only imagine the harm they really caused. Of course, as a kid, I didn’t understand this, but as an educated and experienced adult when it comes to this subject, it’s saddening to look back on. Please, keep your cats inside. AND FIXED. Hence our cat empire lmao. Do you think people should need a license in order to keep animals, just to make sure they knew how to properly take care of them? That would actually be LOVELY. If only. Not that it would entirely prevent illegal ownership, but I like to think most people are law-abiding citizens… Which meal of the day is your favorite? What’s your favorite thing to eat for that meal? BREAKFAST! Cinnamon rolls just gotta top the list. When was the last time you bounced on a trampoline? Would you ever want to go to one of those indoor trampoline parks? It has to have been so, so many years. My knees could NEVER take that now. I’m not interested in that. What’s your favorite thing to put on a baked potato? Butter, American cheese, and bacon bits… yum. Have you ever made money selling stuff online? What was it you were selling? I don’t think so, at least not successfully. Do you have a valid passport? When was the last time you used it? No. What was the last song you sung along to? I’m unsure. I rarely sing along to songs. What was the last piece of fruit you ate? What about the last vegetable? Fruit: apple. Vegetable: ummm I’m actually unsure. Probably broccoli. Have you ever lied to the police or a customs official? Were you ever found out? No. Are you much of a procrastinator, or would you rather get things out of the way so you can relax? I am a HEAVY procrastinator. When was the last time you took an exam of any kind? I don’t know. Probably not since I was in school. What snacks/drinks from your childhood do you wish they still made? Ah man, I know there’s some… just too many to dig through to try and remember. Are you a fan of techno? Yeah, sometimes. Who's your favorite horror movie villain/monster? I don’t particularly like one over the other. What's an 'obsession' of yours that most people would find odd or amusing? Probably how much I love Mark, given that being a “fangirl” is usually seen as juvenile. What's the sweetest thing another person has said or done for you? Probably Colleen letting me live with her while I was homeless for a month or two. Said to me, actually from Colleen’s sister; I was having a crying episode over Jason and she just grabbed my head and told me with such passion that I was so beautiful, strong, and deserved the world. Safe to say I started crying more lmao but at least it wasn’t from sadness. What's the absolute best feeling in the world? Being in love. Does the person you have feelings for know you feel that way? Yeah. Do you like Tim Burton? Um, duh. How do you feel about hypnotism? I don’t believe it works. It’s just the power of suggestion. How do you feel about Pink Floyd? I’m not a big fan, but I like some songs. What’s your preferred way of keeping fit? Is it something you make time to do on a regular basis? You assume I AM fit… but I really am trying to change that with WiiFit again, once the living room is cleaned up. I plan to insert it into my morning routine. Have you ever raised a puppy? Would you want to or would you prefer to adopt an adult rescued dog? Yes, Teddy. Right now I don’t want another dog, but hypothetically, I’d absolutely go for an adult rescue. Who was the last person to come to your house? Were they an expected visitor? My younger sister. Yes. If you work, is your job the same everyday, or does it vary depending on what you have on? N/A Would you ever be interested in owning your own business? Why or why not? Well, I want to be a freelance photographer, so… It’s not off the ground enough for me to *officially* call it a business, but while it’s absolutely so exciting to picture, it’s also very anxiety-inducing, the idea of it (hopefully) getting to that point since I’m dumb as fuck in regards to business stuff. Do you have your driver’s license? If so, did you find it easy or difficult to learn and pass your test? Ugh, I don’t. I need it so badly, I know, but right now, I couldn’t even if I wanted to because my vision is too bad to possibly pass that part, and I can’t afford to see an eye doctor + get a new prescription. If you have pets, how often do you buy them new treats and toys? Venus is a snake, so… yeah, lol. She needs a bigger terrarium, though, but a 40 gallon is expensive. Roman gets a new toy every now and then, but he doesn’t play with them as much anymore. If you had to work a job that required you to do shifts, would you rather work the early, late or night shift? Early. Get it over with. Do you have a favorite type of survey to take? Yeah; I like the ones that make me think or are just questions I definitely haven’t seen before but are also interesting. Some random questions are way too specific to apply to most people. On a typical day, how long do you spend out of the house? Even before the pandemic, usually zero time. Do you live in a close-kit community? Well we’re the new family on the block, so it’s hard to tell quite yet. People were welcoming, though. Do you have a vlog? NOOOOOOOOOO. If not, have you ever considered starting a vlog? No, I would feel WAY too fuckin awkward. Did you go to AM or PM kindergarten? AM. What are your favorite YouTube channels to watch? The whole world knows Markiplier is my true favorite channel, but lately I’ve really been digging pet (particularly reptile or tarantula) channels, Snake Discovery in specific. I’ve been bingeing the fuck outta them. I’ve officially become the “I know more than you” Petco meme lmao. Which relative(s) do you look the most like? Idk. Have you ever watched a live birth video? FUCK no. I never would. That could be so fucking scarring to middle school kids, for Christ’s sake. I’ve never understood why they show them in a lot of health classes. Have you ever given birth? Fuck to the no; never plan to, either. Have you ever wished you were born the opposite gender? Nah. Have you ever worn overalls? Ugh, as a kid. They’re so hideous to me now. If you’re a girl, how old were you when you started your period? I was in the 6th grade, so 11-12. Is your mom mentally stable? I mean she has depression, but otherwise, yeah. What color hair did your first crush have? I can’t really remember who my first crush was with certainty… but I think I might. If I’m right, blond. What was the name of your first crush? ^ in minds, I think Aaron. Did you ever play on Mamamedia.com? Doesn’t ring a bell. Do you remember your first email address? Haha, yeah, it’s still my current one… Did you name your Lego characters? I was more of a Lincoln Logs kid. Do you take medication for anxiety or depression? Both. If so, does it work? Does it help you? Or does it make you feel worse? I’d probably be dead without at least my mood stabilizers. Have you ever had a bag stolen? I don’t believe so. Who was your best friend in high school? Hannia. What book or movie gave you nightmares as a child? Ha, no books or movies, I think, but remember King Ramses from that episode of Courage the Cowardly Dog? Oh, trust me, I HAD NIGHTMARES. What song makes you cry? The most, probably “Eternally Yours” by Motionless In White. I physically cannot listen to it. Does anyone know who your first crush was besides you? Maybe Mom? Idk. How many teachers have you had crushes on? None. Did you make your Barbie dolls get crushes on each other? I actually don’t remember? I don’t think we had any male Barbies, and of course as a little kid raised in the South especially, I didn’t even realize homosexuality was a thing, so we never considered the girls dating. Did your Barbie dolls go on dates? ^ How old were you when you had your first kiss? 16. Do you have scars from self-harm? No, they’re long faded and were thankfully never very severe. Did your hair change at all when you went through puberty? Yep, it gradually turned brown. Are you taller, shorter, or the same height as your mom? We’re the same height. Would you ever consider adopting a child? I don’t want kids, period. The only possible case I see is being a stepmom, but even then I can’t visualize me being one to an actual kid-kid. Just like, maybe a mid-teen and above. Do you trim your own hair? No. What are all the things you remember being for Halloween? I’m very surprised that I don’t remember many at all. I know I was a witch multiple times. What was the name of the first pet that you loved? I adored almost every pet my family has ever had. Our first was a stray cat named Chance we took in. INCREDIBLE animal. What color was your nursery? I have zero clue. Do you exercise regularly? Ugh, no, but I genuinely plan on changing that once the living room is cleaned up and Mom moves into her room. I’m very serious about starting Wii Fit again. I WAS gonna start walking once we moved here, but I found I was too scared to alone. I’m way too paranoid. Do you have a healthy BMI? lol What photo editing software do you use? Lightroom, Photoshop, and very rarely PhotoScape if I’m being lazy with watermarking my photography. Do you live somewhere with lots of livestock or wild animals? Livestock, yeah. You pass cows all the time around here. If you’re in a more wooded area, you’ll find roadkill kinda frequently, sadly. Would you rather live somewhere rural or urban? Rural. It’s the only thing that sucks about our new home – we’re in the suburbs. Is there anything (a hobby, for example) that’s guaranteed to always make you feel better when you’ve had a bad day? Not 100%, really. If the day was truly awful, sometimes nothing helps. If you’re struggling with your mental health, who are you most likely to open up to, or would you bottle it up instead? I vent to my mom the most. What room of your house do you spend the most time in? Is this through choice or necessity? My room, and it’s by choice. The second room that I wanna make my “office” is still LOADED with stuff from moving. If you could design your own garden, what would you have in it? Do you think that dream is ever going to be achievable for you? I don’t want a garden. Does it take you a long time to fall asleep at night? What do you if you’re really struggling to get to sleep? It can take me very, very long. I dread lying down some nights just because I know I’ll be tossing and turning for a good while. If I’ve tried to sleep for a long time to no avail, I do what you shouldn’t do and get back on the laptop. Do you think it’s cruel when people keep exotic animals as pets? Or do you think it’s okay as long as they have the space, time and money to dedicate to them? This depends on the animal and situation. I do believe some rescue cases are justified for the animal’s survival, but as the question mentions, you need to be able to provide adequately for it to be moral imo. I do NOT support exotic pet ownership for the average person. If you eat meat, is there a particular animal you’d never eat? If you don’t eat meat, what’s the reason for it? I could never eat a “pet” animal, nor an animal hunted mostly for sport. Even in survival cases, I’d have a hard time eating a wild animal.

[navpike]

cry out what you need to: chapter 1

“Okay, so, you know my partner, Amy Rohrbach? She died, on Sunday. And she had a daughter. She’s five years old and she had no other family and they were going to put her in the system and I just felt so--” “Dick, did you adopt the kid?” “I adopted the kid.”

Or, the one where Dick adopts a child, learns to balance parenting and superheroing, and falls in love, not necessarily in that order.

Chapter One: Rona [on ao3]

Dick has no idea what he’s doing, if he’s being honest with himself. He doesn’t know what possessed him to agreed to do this, or why he thought it was a good idea, or why he thought he is at all qualified to raise a whole child by himself.

But the important thing is that he’s done it.

And now he cannot undo it.

He’s a dad now, and dear god if that is not the most terrifying goddamn thing. Scarier than facing the Joker, or an angry Alfred, or Babs after he’s done something stupid.

But what else could he have done?

Amy Rohrbach was the best partner he’d ever had, probably the best cop Gotham PD has ever seen, and she had died because he had failed to watch her back. He had been sloppy in the field, and it was because of that that Amy had died. It was because of him that her five year old daughter was an orphan now, with no close family to look after her. So what else could he have done, besides take the kid in? He had failed to look after her mother, he wasn’t about to fail the kid too. His foster license is always up to date, in case a kid in the middle of a case needs a temporary placement for a day or two until they can be safely placed into a more permanent foster home, so it was just a matter of filing a bit of paperwork. A few signatures and a hearing with a judge, and he’s a dad.

He’s only a little bit completely out of his depth.

He gains custody of Rona Rohrbach, moves her into the penthouse, and begins to make funeral arrangements for Amy all in the same day. It feels like the day drags on forever.

He can’t imagine how it feels for Rona.

The next few days pass in a haze, and before he knows it, he’s holding Rona’s hand while they put her mother in the ground. He wonders if this is how Pop Haly felt, when he stood by and watched Dick watch his parents get buried. Dick’s chest feels tight as he watches Amy’s casket lowered into the grave, and he swipes away a few stray tears. He’s never much cared about people seeing him cry, but right now, he has to be strong for Rona. He’ll have time to really mourn later. For now, he’s got a little girl to be there for.

He holds tight to her hand as they step forward to toss white roses into the grave, and then Rona turns around and clutches at Dick’s leg. As the funeral party disperses, she starts sobbing, big fat tears that soak into his suit pants, crying hard enough that not a single sound escapes her.

Dick scoops her up, and holds her tight, and walks them both back to his car, the one he “borrowed” from the penthouse garage, because his bike is not suitable for transporting a young child. He settles her into the back seat and climbs in on the other side and just sits for a minute, letting her cry out what she needs to.

“Rona?” Dick says softly, when she finally seems to settle a bit.

She sniffles miserably, and swipes her snotty nose on the back of her hand and looks at Dick with big wet eyes. “I miss my mommy,” she says, with a trembling lower lip.

Dick’s heart clenches in his chest as he reaches out to take her hand. “I know sweetheart. I know you miss her, and I’m so sorry that you can’t see her. I miss her too. But she’ll always be here with you, right here,” he says, tapping over his own heart twice. “And I’m going to be here to look after you, since she can’t. We’ll take it one step at a time, and we’ll do it together, okay? So, first step. How about we go back home now, and I’ll make us some dinner, if you’re up for eating something?”

She nods, and sniffles again, and Dick makes a mental note to stash a box of tissues in the car from now on as he climbs into the driver’s seat and takes them home.

When they get back to the penthouse, he takes her into the room that’s been claimed as hers and helps her change from the uncomfortable dress she’d worn for the funeral into something more comfortable. He leads the way back to the living room, then, and sits her down on the couch, flipping on the TV and passing her the remote, to let her switch through channels until she settles on some kids show he’s certain she’s not paying attention to.

“How do we feel about spaghetti and meatballs for dinner, huh?” he asks, hoping to get some kind of reaction from her.

She only nods, though, and mutters a quiet, “Yes, please.”

Dick sighs and heads for the kitchen. He supposes that he can only do so much for a little girl who’s just lost her mother, but he still wishes he could be doing more. He is tracking the man who shot Amy, the only one who got away from that scene, and he is going to bring them to justice if it’s the last thing he does, but that still doesn’t feel like enough.

And then, he reminds himself that it cannot be the last thing he does. He has a child to look after now, and that has to come before anything else, because he will not leave her alone again.

He pinches the bridge of his nose as he watches a pot of water waiting for it to boil.

As he watches a single bubble rise to the surface, he is hit with the most terrifying realization he’s ever had.

He hasn’t told Alfred yet.

He hasn’t told Bruce or Babs or any of his siblings, for that matter, but the more pressing thing is the fact that he hasn’t told Alfred, because Alfred is the one that scares him.

Dick spends the rest of the time he’s making dinner debating what to do about that, and almost overcooks everything he gets so distracted thinking about it. Still, he does manage to get dinner on the table without major incident. When he calls her, Rona hops off the couch and goes to the kitchen, and asks if he wants her to set the table, as though this is a routine they’ve worked on for years, even though she’s only lived with him for three days.

He dishes her out some food as she places the cutlery and napkins he’d given her out on the table, and he’s just about to hand her the plate when he remembers something that Roy had done for Lian when he’d had dinner with them once, a few months ago. Instead of handing her the plate as is, Dick takes a moment to cut everything into bite sized pieces, and places that in front of her.

As he expected she would, Rona does nothing more than pick at her food, but he doesn’t say anything about it, besides encouraging her to eat some vegetables.

“I’ve got to make a phone call after dinner, okay, kiddo? So after I clean up dinner, I’m going to do that, and then I’ll help you get ready for bed when I’m done, okay?” Rona nods, and stabs a green bean with more force than is probably necessary, dragging it through the pasta sauce on her plate. “While I’m on the phone, why don’t you pick out a book for us to read before bed? We brought a few from your house, remember?” She nods again, though she seems to perk up a little bit at that, and then they lapse into relative silence for the rest of the meal.

When Dick finally gives up on Rona eating anything more, he tells her she’s excused, and she slips away with a quiet, “Thanks for dinner.”

As he tidies up, he tries to make a plan for the immediate future.

It’s a Wednesday, and Rona’s already missed the week of school up until this point, so he figures there’s no reason to make her go for the rest of the week, so he’ll let her take Thursday and Friday off, to give her a chance to get used to the sudden change in everything. Maybe he’ll take Friday to take her out to the manor to meet Alfred and Bruce and whoever else is there. He knows Jason and Cass are in Star City working a case with Roy and Dinah, and Tim is in Metropolis running down a few leads for something else with Kon, and Damian will likely be in school on a weekday, so it’s a good time to go, so she won’t be overwhelmed. They can take Saturday, and Sunday if need be to go back to the Rohrbach’s place to pack up all of Rona’s things, and he’ll go back and pack up the rest of the house while she’s at school the next week so she doesn’t have to see her whole life put away in boxes. He’ll have everything put away in storage somewhere so Rona can decide what she wants to do with it all of it when she gets older, and have the house put on the market, and put whatever money is made off of that into a savings account for Rona for college or something.

He’s got all of next week off of work, so he’ll be able to make it work, and maybe he’ll be able to recruit Steph to help if he asks her nice and buys her a bottle of wine. Maybe he’ll offer to let her use his motorcycle too. Doesn’t seem like it’ll be getting much use, what with the kid and everything, and he’d hate to let it sit unused, and with Steph in college, she doesn’t have the income to have a car, so she’d probably appreciate it. Yeah. He’ll do that.

First things first though, he has to call Alfred and Bruce.

His heart races as the line rings.

“Hello, Master Dick, excellent timing, I’ve just finished tidying up from supper,” Alfred’s voice says on the other end of the line when the ringing stops.

Dick takes a deep breath and tries not to jitter straight out of his skin.

“Hey, Alfie, is Bruce around? I want to talk to you both.”

“Are you quite alright? You don’t sound well.” Dick can hear the concern lacing Alfred’s voice, and his footsteps as he moves through the manor.

“I’m fine, I promise, I’ve just got some big news.”

“I see,” Alfred says, and then quieter, as though he’s pulled the phone away from his face, “Master Bruce, Master Dick is on the line, he wishes to speak to us both.”

“Dick, you’re on speaker, what’s going on?” says Bruce’s voice.

Dick takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Okay, so, you know my partner, Amy Rohrbach?” When he hears answers to the affirmative, he continues. “She died, on Sunday. She was shot while we were out on a call, and I couldn’t… I tried, but there was nothing I could’ve done. Her funeral was today.”

“Dick, I’m so sorry.”

“That’s not it,” Dick says, before Bruce can get any further. “Rohrbach… Amy had a daughter. She’s five years old and she had no other family that could be found and they were going to put her in the system and I just felt so-- I couldn’t let that happen. And you know I already had the foster license so I just--”

“Dick, did you adopt the kid?”

“I adopted the kid.”

“I know you wanted to do good by this girl, but did you really think this through, Dick? A child is a lot of responsibility.”

Alfred clears his throat. “Pot, I invite you to meet the kettle.”

Dick stifles a laugh and Bruce grumbles something that Dick can’t make out, but that’s it. He doesn’t question the decision any further.

“How is the young miss doing, then, Master Dick?” Alfred asks.

“She’s missing her mom, but that’s only to be expected. She’s quiet and a little withdrawn, but she seems to be taking the move well at least. Small mercies, and all that.”

“You’ve brought her to your apartment? Master Dick that is hardly the best place for a child to be raised.”

“I know, I know. It was fine when I would take kids in for a night or two, but I know it’s not good for a kid. We’re at the penthouse. Temporarily at least. I was going to start looking for a better place soon.”

“Don’t bother,” Bruce says, in his strained, I-don’t-want-to-show-emotions voice. “Any granddaughter of mine only deserves the best. Stay there. I don’t want you worrying about apartment hunting on top of everything else. You’ve got enough on your plate.”

Dick heaves a sigh of relief. Holy shit is he glad Bruce just said that. Sure he would’ve been able to find a place just fine, it wouldn’t have been the tallest order. But he’s so glad that he doesn’t have to worry about that all on top of worrying about Rona and packing away his partner’s life to be stuck in a storage unit to gather dust.

God he’s going to miss Amy.

As distant as he had tried to keep himself at work, he couldn’t help but care for Amy. She was nothing but a good person, a good cop, and he knew she cared for her more than anything in the world.

He shakes his head to shake the thought. He can be sad later.

“I’m gonna keep her home from school the rest of the week, and I’ve got some time off work so she can have a chance to adjust to being here, and this weekend we’re going to go back to Amy’s place so I can let her decide what she wants to pack up and take with her. But I was hoping that on Friday we could stop by the manor? I know everyone else is out of town for a bit and I wanted to be able to introduce her to you without all of… that.”

“I know what you mean,” Bruce agrees, almost too easily. Dick coughs to cover an almost laugh. They both know their family can be overwhelming when they all get into one place. Dick knows he’s not innocent on that front either. “I’ll move some things around during the day. Bring her by for lunch.”

“That’s sounds good. Thank you, Bruce. Really. This is--Just thank you.”

“It’s not trouble at all, chum. Just do one thing for me?”

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“You want to tell us what her name is?”

Dick smacks himself in the forehead. “Her name is Rona.”

[violetsmoak]

maybe this is how it starts [1/?]

Cover & Disclaimer

Warning: In case it hasn’t been made clear, Dick Grayson is currently “dead” (since this takes place during some of the Spyral arc)

AN: I had way too much fun writing this. Dialogue is my happy place. 

Maybe this is how it starts: with Jason lugging a bleeding and unconscious Red Robin up a rickety fire-escape, swearing every time the kid’s stupid fucking cape gets stuck on a metal edge.

Ivy’s latest creations—some kind of Venus Flytrap-vampire hybrids—have done a number on the guy. When Jason found him, his erstwhile replacement was suspended by a network of razor toothed vines doing their best to burrow through his suit’s Kevlar. Judging by the puddle of blood below him, they were pretty damn well succeeding.  

As luck would have it, plants and vampires have the same aversion to fire. A brief stint of arson later (and a few gashes of his own to show for it), and Jason had Tim hoisted over his shoulder and Ivy knocked out. After a moment debating it, he’d grappled toward his nearest bolthole, the police sirens wailing in his wake.

It’s pure coincidence he found him. Jason’s only just gotten back to the city, taking a short break from intergalactic outlawing. As far as he knows, Tim’s been zipping around the world playing chicken with a bunch of ninjas and an irritating reporter. Not that they interact much beyond the occasional text or major crisis in Gotham under normal circumstances, of course. But Bruce’s demon spawn’s been back from the dead for two weeks now, and everyone’s been sticking closer to the home front since then.  

Not too close though.

Jason’s still twitchy about spending long stretches of time at the manor. Since the demon brat’s resurrection gave him a bunch of friggen superpowers, Jason’s erred on the side of self-preservation. It’s not as fun teasing a ten-year-old when said ankle-biter can lift a car and crush the life out of you with it.

He’s pretty sure Tim has been steering clear of the manor for that same reason. And avoiding any parts of Gotham where Batman and Robin might be patrolling. Because of course Bruce is crazy enough to take a twerp with a hair-trigger temper on patrol.

Like it doesn’t matter he has the means of caving someone’s head in with a flick of his finger.

It’s why Jason took a detour near Robinson Park tonight (he avoids thinking about the fact it was part of Dick’s usual patrol route). It’s also why he happened to stumble upon Ivy about to turn Tim into plant food.

And really, Ivy? Vampire plants? How bored were you?

This safehouse is one of his smaller ones, the top floor of a three-story walk-up listed as unsafe and condemned for demolition. Jason’s been paying city officials off to ignore it for as long as he needs it; it’s not the fanciest or most upgraded spot, but it’s got running water and it came with the furniture. That’s about all he cares about when he’s tired and when someone unsavory comes looking for him in his usual digs.

This neighborhood is also in the anti-social and distrustful part of the Upper East Side where no questions someone in a scarlet helmet carrying what looks like a dead body up a fire-escape. Especially someone stumbling around and making as much noise as Jason is.

Vines must have been poisonous, too. No wonder the kid’s out cold, I feel like I was hit by a truck. And my arms going numb where they got me.

The door’s easy enough to get open, even one-handed, but he must stoop and contort to get himself and Tim inside considering all their armor. Blood smears across the handle and he makes a mental note to scrub everything down with bleach tomorrow.

Tim makes a discontent sound when his head knocks against the archway,

“Oh, yeah, like you felt that,” Jason mutters, kicking the door closed behind him and heading through the kitchen and down the narrow hall toward the living room and bedroom.

He bypasses the couch because stains are a bitch to get out of that upholstery and he doesn’t want the whole place smelling like stale blood forever after this. Bedsheets are easier to toss. There’s already a rubber sheet on the mattress here, legacy of several incidents where he’s shredded his stitches or didn’t bother changing after a particularly brutal fight.

“You’d better not have this thing fucking armed,” Jason tells Tim after he tugs off the cape and cowl and reaches for the tricked-out bandolier. “I mean it. If I get electrocuted, I’m letting you bleed out.”

“Awesome…bedside manner,” Tim mumbles. “Ten out of ten…would recommend.”

“Dick.”

“No…Dick’s dead…I’m Tim.”

Jason groans. “That was pitiful. Like, me levels of bad. How much blood have you lost?”

Nothing but a pained wheeze in response, and Jason rolls his eyes, continuing to strip the kid down to his underwear with rough efficiency.

Though Tim’s arms and legs are peppered with bruises and a few tiny gouges leaking blood, those injuries are superficial for the most part. It’s only the one gaping hole in his right side where one of the vines pierced through the armor; it hit nothing vital, but it’s bleeding like a son of a bitch.

Jason heads to the bathroom to grab the med kit (which is stocked better than most hospital supply closets) and injects them both with something to counteract the poison. It’s a broad-spectrum antitoxin, geared specifically toward Poison-Ivy related emergencies (and he really hopes she hasn’t gotten more creative than the whole vampire-plant hybrid thing) and sets to work stitching the rent flesh and muscle in Tim’s side back together. He takes longer than normal because his vision is blurring, and his fingers trembling.

Side-effect of the antitoxin.

Tim’s already passed out again, his chest rising and falling in a regular rhythm that assures Jason the kid’s not about to seize up and die. Still, he maneuvers him roughly into a recovery position and sticks a bucket beside the bed. It’s not unheard of for Ivy’s poisons to cause projectile vomiting.

“Don’t say I never do anything nice for you,” he grumbles, and takes the time to check for injuries of his own. The room sways, his eyes drooping, and he decides if he hasn’t bled out now, there can’t be anything too pressing.

Jason barely shrugs out of the bulkiest bits of his armor before plummeting face-first onto the bed beside Tim.

Horizontal is good; he likes being horizontal.

He doesn’t intend to stay there. Not being the same bloody mess as Tim, he’s okay with crashing on his couch because it’s an amazing couch. He might actually sleep better on it than the bed.

Except, sleep is a goddamn glorious temptress and sounds so much better than willing himself to trudge back across the apartment.

“You’d better not snore,” he tells Tim’s back, before pressing his face into the pillow and letting beautiful unconsciousness swim up around him.

֍

There’s no transition from being asleep to being awake. One minute, Tim is swimming in the dreamless black of total oblivion, and the next he is staring up at an unfamiliar cracked ceiling.

His mouth has the rancid metallic taste it always gets when he’s been dosed with something—sedative or antitoxin, maybe—and there’s a body beside him. It’s a fact that should concern him—he’s woken next to unconscious or dead bodies more than he’d like to admit—but the unhurried, easy breathing suggests it is voluntary unconsciousness. Scent returns next, the air damp and cool, with a hint of mold mixing with odors of cordite, gun polish, drying blood and cigarette smoke.

Familiar cigarette smoke.

Jason, he decides, not even having to glance to his side to confirm his deduction.

Memories of the night before return, along with the itchy sting of new stitches in his skin and what appears to be a hundred paper cuts across the rest of his body. He can feel that especially well, since he has no clothing other than his underwear and the air is aggravating the broken skin.

This had better not be another Paris situation.

He’s not sure why that’s his first thought, because obviously he had to lose his uniform to be treated, but he doesn’t like the idea of being manhandled while mostly-naked. Not that there’s anything to worry about from Jason. Even if he wasn’t an ally-maybe-friend-not-quite-brother most of the time, the Red Hood has a very well-known attitude towards untoward behavior and minors.

Still going to check his phone for any blackmail material, though.

It’s what Dick would do in this situation.

Would have done.

Tim swallows the painful lump in his throat.

He continues to stare up at the ceiling for another few seconds, choosing to collect his thoughts rather than dwell on unpleasant realities. It’s easy to put together the chain of events from when he passed out in Ivy’s clutches to waking up in what is clearly a safehouse. It’s happened to all of them at some point, so there’s no associated panic. He is, however, curious about one thing that’s different from usual.

“Jason.”

The flatness of his tone marred by sleep, makes him sound groggier and less aware than he would like.

There is no response. He knows the older man is awake now though; it’s a universal talent of the Bat-trained, being able to rouse from a deep sleep to peak awareness at the drop of a hat.

“Jason,” he repeats, a little louder, still studying the cracks in the plaster that spread and merge with a spot of water-damage.

“Mmf…ckff…”

The words are muffled by a pillow, but understandable. He’s awake enough to formulate a response. Good, on to the next bit.

“Why am I in bed with you?”

And is there any way to make that question not sound disturbing?

“…No blood on the couch…” is the grumbled, surprisingly coherent response. “S’my favorite couch…”

Which makes a Jason-like amount of sense, even if it doesn’t outright answer what Tim is asking. He decides the conversation isn’t worth the trouble of dragging it out of the other man, mostly because he’s pretty sure a half-asleep Red Hood is just as hard to interrogate as an awake and alert Red Hood. Maybe harder, given the propensity for slurring his words.

And so, Tim eases himself gingerly upward into a sitting position, hissing when the movement tugs on the skin around the wound in his side. He examines it with a frown, noting that it’s far too close to his right kidney for his liking; he’ll have to take a break from patrol for the next few days to let it heal, and to make sure it doesn’t get infected.

Though, it won’t be due to subpar first aid, he allows, considering the neat row of stitches holding the still angry red wound closed. “At least your sewing has improved.”

“Screw you, my sewing’s awesome.” This time Jason definitely sounds more awake, and there’s a shift of the bed. “Martha Stewart’s got nothing on me. You snore, by the way.”

“I do not.”

Tim glances over at the other man, taking in his somewhat bloody appearance. He’s in a sweat-stained t-shirt, and there are a few slashes in his arms that are scabbing over; probably from the vines. He hasn’t shaved in a long while, and he’s got a bad case of helmet head—the red roots are coming out again. Coupled with the bloodshot eyes, he looks like someone who just got off a bender.

“You look like crap,” Tim tells him bluntly.

Jason rolls his eyes.

“Aw, thanks Timbers. And you’re welcome, by the way. You know, for the whole saving your life thing.”

Tim grits his teeth, knowing the slightly mocking tone is meant to get a rise out of him. Jason is nothing if not excellent at pushing people’s buttons.

“Thank you,” he says. Annoyance about this whole situation aside, he is grateful. He thinks a year ago Jason might have left him to him die. “I appreciate it. Really.”

“You’d better. I almost left you to strangle on the fire escape in that ridiculous cape of yours. You know one day that’s going to get stuck in a jet-engine or something right?”

“Bruce is the one that tackles runaway jets, not me.”

Jason makes a dismissive gesture.

“So, how many times is that now?” he asks then, reaching for the shabby night table beside him and finagling open a drawer. He pulls out a rumpled pack of cigarettes and a zippo. “I’m starting to wonder if I should be waiving the family discount for my services. I mean, it’s not like you can’t afford it.”

“What’s the point? You’ll have died of lung cancer before I have to make a payment.”

Jason makes a point of holding his gaze as he lights the cigarette between his lips, just to be contrary. Tim makes a face at the acrid waft of smoke that follows.

“And that’s my cue,” he sighs, swinging himself over the bed and promptly putting his foot down in a bright red garbage pail.

“Watch the bucket,” Jason tells him after the fact, mocking lilt in his voice.

Tim closes his eyes and silently counts to ten.

It could be worse. It could be Damian.

“Can you, for one second, not be a total jerk?” he asks conversationally, carefully stepping out of the bucket ad getting to his feet. “Where’s my suit?” Jason motions vaguely in the direction of the floor, exhaling a stream of smoke. “Thanks. That’s really helpful.”

“I aim to please.”

“Right.” Tim is the one to roll his eyes now. “At least tell me you have a coffeemaker in this place.”

He’s getting one of those headaches, and at least forty percent of it is not caused by Jason.

“That would be lying though and lying is wrong.” This is said with a shit-eating grin. “Your choices are Earl Grey or mineral water.”

Tim curls his lip. “You’re destroying the whole tough-guy image I have of you. What kind of vigilante doesn’t drink coffee?”

“The kind that likes having a sparkling white smile?”

“I don’t know if I can take you seriously anymore.”

“Yeah, well, I never took you seriously,” Jason retorts, flicking his cigarette into the nearby ashtray. “I’m taking you even less seriously since you’re standing there near-naked with rat’s nest hair and a hard-on.”

Which causes color to flood Tim’s cheeks and an unfortunate automatic flick of his eyes downward to see that, damn it, he’s right.

“Shut up!” he snaps, grabbing the nearest pillow to cover himself, and Jason guffaws. “It’s a normal biological reaction.”

“Still funny, though.”

Tim’s already stumbling from the bed in embarrassment, looking for the bathroom.

“Door on the right,” Jason calls after him, disgustingly amused. “Don’t get your stitches wet.” Just as Tim reaches it, he pitches his voice louder: “And if you need to rub one out in there, have the decency to rinse down the wall!”

Mortification hits Tim even harder than before.

“Fuck off Jason!”

He hears a roar of laughter from the bedroom.  

I take back what I said about Damian.

TBC

Next Chapter

[77uchiha77]

Young Love - Older!Damian Wayne x reader

Part 2 to “Weakness”

Request: A lot of people asked for a part 2!

Note/Warning: Language

Word Count: 1,217

Part 1

D/C = dream college

Enjoy!

Recap

He jogged around the school hell-bent on finding you. He approached your locker, spotting a figure similar to yours, all over a male.His heart clenched hoping it wasn’t you. As he approached nearby, the male brought you closer and kissed your nose as you smiled ever so brightly. That smile of yours was contagious.He smiled to himself, thinking of all the times he made you laugh and grin.

Then you spoke three words that changed everything.  “I love you.” You gleamed looking happier than ever staring into the guy’s eyes. Damian squeezed his bookbag straps, jaw clenched. Quickly turning the other way, he stormed into his AP Physics C class muttering

“Like I said, love is just a weakness.”

 Days later and multiple attempts at trying to talk to Damian, Damian finally gave in to talking to you.

“ Y/N, I don’t think our friendship will withstand any longer,”

Your face twisted into a look of confusion. “Okay, and may I ask why?”

“Separation... will benefit the both of us,” Damian muttered, walking away joining the crowd of people in the hallway trying to get to their next class. I stood there confused and mentally drained, wondering what the hell did I do. 

2 years later

  You grimaced at the thought of when you and Damian last spoke. During the span of these 2 years many, many things occurred. From that day you’ve definitely grown into your figure for one. Damian’s personality changed, at once known for being a genius brooding Wayne to Damian becoming an all-around social/popular guy. Not that you knew this was all just an act.

These changes made you think maybe you were holding him back. Holding him back from interacting with certain people or being his best self? You didn’t know but all you could think of what could’ve been. The present-day you were getting ready to leave for the airport. As you were accepted into your dream college.

 I gazed at the picture of Titus, Damian and I. Quickly wiping the tear coming out my eye, as the thought of losing the closest thing to me was because of some misunderstanding. You knew it was because of the scene he witnessed when he requested to talk to you. His "girlfriend", Jennifer kept sending you shit for it. As to why you were such a whore when clearly Damian loved you and now tending his broken heart and other b.s.

The boy that was all over you was your boyfriend at the time. You dumped him 2 days later after realizing how toxic the relationship was. He said I love you first in which he started pressuring you into saying back, trying to make you reciprocate feelings you didn’t and probably would never have for him. 

 As I shoved the last piece of clothing into my luggage, I stared at myself in the mirror. I wasn’t going to sulk on a friend I lost, friends come and go. I’m an adult and independent I can do this. I gave myself a pep talk as I started getting ready to head over to the manor.

Despite the fact that Damian and I weren't on great talking terms, regardless I went to the manor time to time to see Tim, Dick, and Jason. Incidentally, Damian was never spotted at the house when I went by, Which I thanked him for that. I grabbed a quick snack from the kitchen and threw my luggage in my car, driving towards the manor to say my quick goodbyes. 

Pulling up to the manor, I recognized Jennifer’s car parked obnoxiously, making no room for another car to enter. I quickly exited the car, my hand now hovering over the door, the door opened. I was met with a frowning Damian with lipstick stains on his lips and a dazed Jennifer, Damian's girlfriend.

 “Oh, hi?” I finally spoke as we held eye contact for the longest.

”Ttt, what are you doing here L/N?” Damian glared at my form, not that you noticed the slight blush rising to his cheeks, just looking at you.

 “Ouch, you call me by my last name now? News flash Dami, I’m friends with your brothers. Don’t worry though,  I’m just saying my quick goodbyes and I’ll be out your hair forever.” The mention of the nickname he hadn't heard in years almost made him break into a smile, almost.

 “What do you mean by out of my hair forever?”

 “Ugh, Damian is this really necessary right now?” An annoyed expression crossed Jennifer’s face as she tried cleaning up her smudged red lipstick, indefinitely smearing it more across her face.

”Didn’t you hear? I’m going to D/C, I want to get settled before starting my first semester. Plus there’s nothing really in Gotham for me anymore.”

 Damian's heart panged at the mention that there’s nothing in Gotham that was willing to make you stay. Despite the fact that you broke his heart, to his knowledge recklessly tossing around "I love you" to a boy that didn't deserve you, he still loved you, maybe even more now. Absolutely nothing can make him stop loving you.

“Y/N!” Dick loud voice cut them out of the trance. Damian continued walking, pulling on Jennifer's hand a little too hard.

 “I’m gonna miss you kiddo.”  Dick pulled me into a hug, suffocating me.

 “Yeah yeah, don't get soft on me Richard. ” I laughed. Dick internally cringed at the mention of his name. Walking towards the large black couch, I looked at Tim's sleeping form and ruffled his hair. Saying my quick goodbyes to everyone else that was in the house. I walked towards my car, being met with Damian leaning against my door, no Jennifer in sight.

 “Damian?” I called out, he looked up at his phone, looking unsure of himself.

 “I just wanted to wish you a safe trip, I’ll be going now.”

 “Is that it? I thought you were going to apologize for ignoring me for 2 years.” I unintentionally sassed.

 “Ignoring? I’m sorry, I didn’t want to see the person I was infatuated with, kissing somebody else every day.” 

“I’m sorry, what?” I questioned now getting angry at his confession. 

"If you hadn’t noticed, I was and have been in love with you for as long as 4 years,"  Damian said looking everywhere but me.

 “In love with me?” I was dumbfounded.

Damian turned around heading back into the manor, I pulled on his wrist. Damian instantly freezing.

”Honestly Damian, I couldn’t really tell you were in love with me of all things, between the constant insults then flirting, I was confused. Plus you aren’t the best at admitting your feelings.” I huffed.

“But I do have to admit, I love you too, Damian and I mean it”

Damian’s eyes snapped towards me. I laughed, hooking my arm with his. Damian stiffened then relaxed.  “I don’t know, perhaps you should list why you love me,”   Damian wore a smug smile. I smiled brightly the thought of having my best friend back and maybe something more.

The two got into the car, driving to the airport, catching up. Dick stared at them from the manor’s window until they disappeared into the city lights, whispering, “ah, young love.”

“Dick, stop being so creepy!”

“Leave me alone Jason!”

[wordsfromthesol]

Replacement (1/2)

Author: @wordsfromthesol​ Pairing: Tim Drake x Reader Warnings: Language, violence Word Count: 2.2k Requested: @beebosclique​ A/N: Thanks for the request because I’ve been on a real Tim Drake kick lately. Which is probably why this story is so long (not sorry). Also (not) sorry for reusing superhero names in my stories…I’ve only come up with like 2 that I like. Also also, thanks for the love 💛💛

Part Two

You had no real memories of your life at the circus, you were only three years old when Bruce Wayne took you in. He and Dick were the only family you knew, well until Jason came into the picture. Jason, unlike Dick, realized that you could take care of yourself. In fact, Jason often sparred with you and secretly taught you as Bruce and Dick taught him. When he died you begged to take over the Robin mantle. You knew there needed to be one, Bruce would go too far, you were even worried Dick would go to far. Tim becoming Robin was the final punch in the gut you needed. They would never allow you to be in the family business, no matter how prepared for it you were. The day Tim passed the gauntlet was the same day you finished your costume. That day Eclipse was born and she quickly made a name for herself, all while avoiding Tim Drake, both at home and in the field.

Jason returned and the Robin mantle got passed once again. You didn’t even ask for it this time. Your silence is what led Jason to discovering your secret identity. You had to admit, it was nice to finally have someone to talk to about it, someone to patch you up if you ever got too injured.

**

“Y/N/N, I don’t get why you won’t just tell them.”

“Because Dick would murder me. He wouldn’t let me be Robin, you think he would be okay with me going out there solo?”

“Yeah, but it would make my life way easier, especially when you need your shoulder reset.” Jason shook his head and mumbled, “can’t believe you waited until morning to come to me.”

“You know if you tell him, he’ll kill you.”

“Hm, well I’ve tried that. Didn’t like it too much, so I guess I’m stuck.”

You nodded at Jason, bracing yourself for the pain. “Shit…” you mumbled as you felt the joint jolt back into place.

“You do remember that I’m your older brother too, right? I don’t like you going out by yourself either.”

“Yes and I have you on speed dial every time I’m out there.” You sighed, trying to give him some reassurance. “Plus…if my vitals drop below a certain point, my suit automatically sends a message straight to Dick and Bruce explaining everything. I can’t override it.”

“Still doesn’t make me feel great, especially since you probably have the settings set to when you’re dead.” You just stuck your tongue out in response. “So I didn’t hear Tim or Damian on that list…”

“Well, I barely know the demon brat. It’s been like a year since he stumbled into our lives, plus he’s a child.”

“Fair enough. You know you can’t blame Tim.”

“I’m not…blaming.”

Jason threw his hands up in defense, “If you say so.” Jason peripheral vision caught Tim’s figure and a smirk grew on his face. “Hey Timbers!” He shouted as you whipped around, hoping Jason was just joking. He wasn’t. “Y/N here could use a sparring partner. Someone to teach her the ropes.” You looked back at Jason, an angry glare in your eyes.

“She…uh…she wants me to teach her…?”

“Well I would love to Timbo, but I promised…uh…Dick that I would help him out.” Tim eyebrow’s shot up, clearly not believing his brother’s lies, before he turned towards you looking for clarification.

“That would be great Tim.” You gritted through your teeth, trying not to sound sarcastic. “Let me just go change.” You shot daggers back at Jason before scampering off. Tim waited until you faded from view before speaking again.

“You know she hates me, right Jay?”

“She doesn’t hate you. She hates what you took from her.”

“I didn’t take anything of hers.” Jason looked at his brother, solemnly.

“Tim. This…” Jason gestured around him, “has been her whole life. Don’t you think she wanted to be Robin? To prove that she belonged in this family.” Jason quickly dropped the serious demeanor. He was never very good at it anyways. “I think once she sees the real you, not the Robin you. She’ll come around replacement!” Jason’s eye caught you in the doorway. He jogged up next to you, “Remember to see past Robin.” He winked at you before leaving the two of you alone.

“Well that was weird.” Tim commented, gesturing you towards him.

“Eh. Jay only pretends not to care about family.” You brushed off the comment as you took your stance.

**

Hours went by, and your shoulder was well beyond it’s limit…something Tim noticed and used to pin you down one final time.

“Alright, I think you’re done.” He clamored as he held out a hand to help you up. A hand which you denied. “What did you do to your shoulder anyways? Need me to look at it?”

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” You swatted his hand away.

“Y/N/N!” You heard Dick’s voice in the distance.

“Don’t tell him anything.” You mumbled to Tim, before turning to greet your brother. “Dickie! Tim was just showing me some new moves.”

Dick stopped at your side, “Tim…you let Tim teach you?” Even Dick was in disbelief. You just shrugged, not offering a response. “Well I was looking for you to let you know I took the night off! I don’t have to leave after dinner.”

“Ohh…” You stammered, “I…uh…I have plans. With Ellen. Mo…movies.”

“Awe, can’t you cancel? I need time with my little sister.”

“I…I so would. But she’s going through this tough time. Her, uh, her boyfriend just broke up with her and…I just I need to be there.”

“Fine,” Dick whined out. “But we’re still on for the diner, right?”

“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it.” You pressed a kiss to Dick’s cheek before running out of the room. You were never good at lying to your brother and thankfully, due to his nightly activities, you rarely had to. Grabbing your phone, you quickly sent Ellen a text, just in case Dick decided to fact check you. Only it wasn’t Dick you needed to worry about. Dick would never believe that his baby sister was lying to him, Tim on the other hand witnessed the entire train wreck.

“I got a case to work on…” Tim gestured towards the computer before leaving Dick standing in the training room alone. Tim went back and forth in his mind, but ultimately decided he would check your phone just in case you were in trouble. That’s when he saw the text message. The one you just sent to Ellen.

Hey girl, used you as a lie to Dick. If he asks we are going to the movies and you just broke up with your boyfriend.

Man you really didn’t want to hang out with your brother tonight.

Yeah, well I already had plans and didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!

That doesn’t say much…

😜😜

**

You were finally able to ditch your brother and were posted on a rooftop, just outside a supposed new drug den.

“What are we looking at?” The sudden voice made you jump. You quickly regained composure, striking a defensive stance. “Relax…” Red Robin came out of the shadows, “I only want to help.”

You huffed at the sight but attempted to contain your discontent, “You don’t normally patrol tonight.”

“Just wanted to keep the criminals on their toes.”

“I’m sure they’re shaking in their boots…to answer your question, I think it’s a new drug den. Followed someone here a few days ago.”

“Well, why aren’t we moving on it?”

“I’m waiting for someone.”

“And that would be…?”

“Someone who still has a choice. If you’re staying, I’m on channel 3.” You commented before dropping into the alley below. Red Robin moved to follow but stopped once he heard your voice come through his comm. “Stay there. We move when I say.” He looked down watching you corner someone.

“Jake.” You calmly called out towards the man. He spun around, realizing he was now stuck in the alley. “What are you doing here?”

“I just…I need money. My baby girl…I don’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice. I’m about to give you another one.”

“I can’t –” You cut him off.

“I’m not asking for anything regarding those idiots.” You gestured towards the drug den. “This is a choice for you. You can leave right now and trust that I’m going to help you. Or you can go in there and warn them that I’m coming. Maybe they’ll overpower me and maybe you’ll be rewarded for the tip. But think about the life that that leads to. You’re better than that life.”

“How…how would you know that?”

“Because I saw the desperation in your eyes a few nights ago. Then I did some digging. That was your first deal.”

“My daughter.”

“I always thought I never had a choice. I was groomed for this life and then it was held just beyond my reach. I was stuck until I made a different path for myself. Now I try to give that opportunity to others. People who thought they had run out of options.”

Tim was stuck in a trance as he watched this Jake character run the opposite way of the drug den. Eclipse was you; you had just made that painfully obvious. Though he wondered if you intended that or if your mind was set on helping Jake.  Suddenly he was shaken from his mental state as your voice came over his comm yet again. “I’m going in the back door. Meet me there if you still want to help.”

You didn’t wait for his response, but noticed a shadowy figure following just above you. The two of you got to the door at the same time, Red Robin spoke first. “I’ll take left.” Tim wanted your sore shoulder exposed as little as possible.

**

“Your shoulder looks pretty bad…”

“It’ll be fine.” You tried to ignore the searing pain as the two of your waited for the police to come round up all the men.

“Do you want me to take a look?”

“No.”

“Do you at least want some high strength pain killers? I can bring some by –”

“Why are you insistent on helping?”

Red Robin shrugged, “Guess us vigilantes gotta stick together.”

“Right. I’m more of a solo gig kinda vigilante.” You saw a smirk graze his face as you heard the sirens approaching. “And that’s my queue.” You gestured towards the sound and bounded out the door. This is Tim. Tim Drake. He stole Robin from you. The words resonated through your head as you tried to forget tonight. It felt different. Or maybe Jason was right…

Once you got to your secret apartment, you showered and attempted a self-evaluation on your shoulder. You jumped upon hearing the sound of tapping against the glass. Shit. You raced into the bedroom, grabbing your discarded mask and throwing it on before sauntering into the living room.

“What do you want?” You questioned Red Robin’s presence as you opened the window.

“Thought you might want these.” He said, tossing you a bottle of pills. “Also, it would probably help if you wear this for a couple days.” Tim held out a sling.

“Yeah, can’t do that.”

“Hm. It’ll take twice as long to heal if you don’t.” He walked over, inspecting the bruising already forming on your shoulder. “This definitely didn’t happen tonight.”

“It was reset this morning.” You glanced at the time, 3:20am, “Well I guess yesterday morning. It’ll be fine.”

“Alright alright,” Tim held up his hands in defense before reaching into one of his pockets. “Well I know you’re a solo vigilante and all…but if you need me.” Tim placed a card and sling in your hand. Before you could respond he was out the window.

You decided it was probably best to wear the sling. Now all you needed was a lie for why you weren’t staying at the Manor.

**

It had only been a few hours before you woke up clouded in smoke. A fire raged around you. Maybe Tim wasn’t the only one who had followed you home. You shot up, immediately donning your mask and throwing your suit into a nearby duffel bag. Running around, you attempted to start collecting your equipment and paper trails as your phone dialed Jason. No answer. You then tried the comm in your mask, no answer. Shit. I’m going to have to call Tim.

“Eclipse?” The voice sounded groggy on the other end.

“Yeah so…I may be in some trouble.”

“Shit. Your apartment?”

“Yeah.” You jumped out of the way as the kitchen beam collapsed.

“What was that?!”

“Just…let me know when you’re here.”

You ignored his plea to stay on the line and focused on fastening everything to your body. This is going to hurt. You freed your arm from the sling and stepped onto the window ledge. Unfortunately, you were right. Tim was not the only person to follow you tonight, and this person wanted you dead. They were waiting for you to leap from that window. You didn’t even make it to the pavement before you heard the gun fire.

[jaybeartodd]

Colleagues Pt. 8/17 -- Jason Todd x fem. reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1821

Tags: @sarcasmismyfirstlove @tsctd

A/N: This was fun! I really hope you guys like it :) Also, I have been considering doing one-shots and all that jazz between these parts. So if you guys have any requests or anything feel free to send them in! I am in school though so please have great patience with me. Anyways, love you guys!! Enjoy!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

“Wow,” Trey exclaims.

Wow was right. The Wayne Manor had seemingly rebuilt itself after the ball and returned to its former glory.

You turn yourself around in the front seat to look at Trey and Nick. Trey has his face plastered against the window. Hope Jason doesn’t mind a few smudges. Nick is looking out the window too barely masking his pain with curiosity. You make a mental note to give him his pain medication before turning back around.

You sneak a glance at Jason in the driver’s seat. His dark hair is in its natural state of a perfect mess and his muscular arms stretch out of his red t-shirt as he grips the steering wheel. His face conveys no emotion except for maybe content. He turns towards you and gives a soft reassuring smile calming your nerves immediately. You blush and tuck a piece of hair behind your ear before you refocus your attention on the mansion.

Jason parks the car by the front entrance and everyone scrambles out. You take a deep breath, not entirely prepared to see the place that has been haunting your nightmares, before following suit.

The older man that had been taking names at the ball exits the house and walks towards you. Behind him is Mr. Wayne, a teenage boy, and a very disgruntled kid that looked to be about 10 years old. That must be the son Mr. Wayne had mentioned.

"Hello Y/N. Nice to see you again. I am Alfred,” the kind gentleman says stretching out a hand. You smile and return the handshake.

"It is nice to officially meet you Alfred. Thank you all for letting us stay.” Trey runs up to you and hides behind your leg, “And this is Trey, my nephew.”

“This is Tim and Damian,” Bruce says pointing to the boys next to him.

Damian responds with a sound that can only be described as tt. Charming. Tim just gives a shy smile. You notice the dark circles under his eyes and his hair looks like he just woke up.

Your head turns when you hear Jason retrieving Nick’s temporary wheelchair from the trunk.

“Trey, I made some snacks for you. I heard you like cookies. Is that true?” Alfred asks. Trey looks up at you and you nod. He takes Alfred’s hand and you watch their retreating figures.

You help Jason get Nick into the wheelchair while the rest of the men grab the bags.

“We put you both in rooms on the first floor to make it easier. There is an elevator that accesses the other floors if need be,”

"Thank you Mr. Wayne.”

”Bruce, please,” he says and you nod. You wheel Nick into the designated room which is easily as large as your entire apartment. 

“Dinner is at five. Feel free to freshen up and join us,” Bruce says warmly and you thank him.

Everyone exits except Jason.

“I am in a room upstairs if you need anything,”

“Thanks Jay. It means a lot,” he smiles at the nickname.

“Of course Dopey,” you roll your eyes and he laughs as he leaves the room.

After taking care of Nick, you take off to your own room. You haven’t been able to say that in a while. And of course when presented with a bed for the first time since moving in with Nick, you immediately pass out onto it.

You awake to commotion outside of your door. Your phone reads quarter til 5 so you shoot out of bed. You pat your hair down to tame it as much as possible and straighten your clothes to at least resemble someone who is not a mess.

Exiting the room you hear shouting.

“Who invited him?” Jason’s familiar voice booms. You follow the voices into what appears to be the dining room.

“Easy Jay, I wouldn’t miss meeting her for the world,” a deep mocking voice returns. You enter the dining room to see Trey and Nick sitting at the table with Damian and Tim. Standing at the head of the table is Jason fuming at a man several inches shorter than him with slick black hair and a muscular build. He turns towards you and gives a winning smile. Damn, this man is attractive.

“You must be Y/N!” he says delighted and walks up to you. You are taken aback when he hugs you tightly. He lets go with the smile still lighting up his face.

“Oh, I’m Dick. Jason’s older and more clever and all-around better brother,” he says smirking. Jason scoffs.

“Similar egos I see,” you say and he breaks into laughter. 

“Jaybird over here has told me a lot about you. You are definitely as charming and beautiful as he described,”

You blush and look at Jay to see him less than happy with this exchange. 

“Alright Prince Charming, can we eat or are you trying to make me throw up before the meal?” Jason says bitterly. 

Bruce arrives and the dinner commences. You eat so much you feel like you are going to burst. It is definitely a far cry from the usual take-out or microwaveable dinner you are used to. 

Nick is obviously uncomfortable at first but then he and Jason start talking about motorcycles which really opens him up. Glad someone in the family enjoys them. Trey is scarfing down the food so fast Nick is consistently reminding him to have manners. You talk to Bruce about work for a little while and then you fall into conversation with Dick about his work in the police force.

Overall, the dinner is delicious and the company is a tremendously helpful distraction from the dogpile of problems plaguing you. 

“Well, I better be heading out. It was really nice meeting you all,” Dick says standing from the table. He leans down and whispers in your ear, “And take care of Jason. He’s fragile.”

You giggle. Jason’s eyes narrow. “Dick better be ready for our next patrol together” Jason thinks.

Everyone bids good night to each other and you grab Nick’s wheelchair to help him into his room. 

“Come on Trey, you need to get ready for bed too,” Nick says and a pouting Trey follows you into Nick’s room. 

You get Nick cleaned up and in bed with Trey’s help. Trey’s room is upstairs so you follow behind his energetic figure towards his room. The house seems unusually quiet but you are way too tired to think too much of it. Looks like that power nap just reminded you how great sleep is.

You manage to wiggle Trey into his pajamas as he dances around the room. 

“T, you really need to chill out and go to sleep. The mansion will still be here when you wake up, I promise.” you say stifling a yawn. 

“And I can't have you playing with my knives if you are tired. It’s a safety hazard,” Jason says leaning in the doorway with his bulky arms crossed over his chest. 

Trey’s eyes widen and he jumps into bed. Who knew bribing with knives could be such an effective parenting tool?

You tuck Trey in and give him a smooch despite his protests. 

“Night Trey,” Jason says with a small wave as you turn off the lights and exit the room with him in tow. 

You rub the exhaustion from your eyes.

“You game for staying up just a little bit longer?” he asks and you look at him curiously. 

“Depends,” you say cautiously. 

“I want to show you something.” you look skeptical,” I promise it’s worth it.” 

You can't resist his eagerness and nod your head. This makes him beam and he signals for you to follow him.

You trail behind as he winds down the endless hallways. He stops at a door and turns the knob. He looks at you sheepishly.

“Now I couldn't help but notice all of the books in your apartment and I thought maybe we shared,” he opens the door and your breath leaves you at the sight,” the same love for literature.”

“This is,” you struggle to find a word to describe the enormous library you are currently standing in the middle of,” amazing.”

You look at him to see him staring, satisfied at your reaction. 

“I even have a favorite reading spot. Wanna see?” he says giddily like a child. You laugh and let him grab your hand pulling you towards his nook. It is a window seat lined with a couch and a perfect view of the garden. You almost laugh at its picturesque perfection.

You sit down and lean back with your legs tucked to your chest completely taken with the view. Jason sits next your feet.

“This is absolutely beautiful Jay,” you say and he looks at you with a sparkle in his eye. 

“It really is.” he looks at you for a moment longer before clearing his throat and looking out the window. “I thought you could use a view after being stuck in the hospital all week. And it's also a fantastic hideout from your worries.” 

His eyes grow a little distant. You sit up on your knees and caress his cheek. He slowly turns his face towards yours. Your heart begins to beat faster as his eyes drop down to your lips. Before you can overthink it you lean in and press your lips against his. He pulls you closer and your mouths fall into sync. 

You finally pull back and he gives a lazy smile, “About time.” You laugh and kiss him again. The hesitant part of you finally disappears and is replaced with a happiness you don't recognize but never want to let go. 

After awhile you break the kiss. Somehow he had ended up with his legs sprawled out underneath and you were holding yourself up with your arms on either side of him.

“You should get some sleep,” he says, his voice husky. You nod and rest your head on his chest.

“Yeah, I should definitely go to bed,” you say yawning, your previous exhaustion finally creeping back in. Your heartrate slows down significantly after the adrenaline subsides and you feel more relaxed than you have in ages. The feeling of his chest rising and falling with each breath starts to lull you into sleep.. Your eyelids begin to droop until you surrender against the sleepless week you've had and let your eyes fall shut.

“Alright Doll. Let's actually get you to bed,” Jason laughs and you mumble incoherently. You vaguely feel him swing his arms beneath your legs and lift you in a fluid motion. 

Before you know it you're being placed on a bed and he throws the covers over you.

“Night Dopey,” he whispers and you want to chastise him for the horrid nickname but you fall into unconsciousness. Leave the second-guessing and complete freak out over what just happened for another time.