#Tim Drake (mentioned)

[lallalanie]

"He was a boy with eyes as blue as the sky."

"Are you sure it was blue? I thought it was different?"

"Are you doubting my memories?"

"Tim, it's been 70 years... You need to let him go."

"But... I love him."

They are so gay and it make my life a mess crying like a dog in the corner

[anima89]

Art inspired by @codenamed-queenie post

vvvv

^^^^

(This was the first time I spent so long on the background :)

[magnetokisser]

here, on earth

summary: after years of grieving your supposedly dead brother, he comes back. now you're wondering if anything you've worked for in his name was for nothing.

pairing(s): none other than family relations

word count: 3k

warnings: reader is morally ambiguous if u squint, i think a few mentions of death, no beta we die like jason!

author's note: go read part one pls, this is a second part to 500 gigawatts of the power of god. there will be a third and final part to this !! ^_^

1 2 3

“my favorite gargoyle, huh?” 

it was like your entire world had stopped upon hearing those words. 

spinning around, you were met with someone you had never seen or heard of before. donning a red helmet, the man seemed to be at least 6’2, wearing a brown leather jacket and some sort of armor. if anything, he kinda reminded you of a red version of black mask. “who.. who are you?” you questioned, jumping up from the gargoyle and landing a few feet away from the man. he pushed out a laugh, his head tilting ever so slightly. “who knows.” he said, jumping away. frowning, you ran to the edge of the building.. seeing nothing. sighing, you decided to head back to the batcave to see if your father knew anything about this mystery man. 

upon returning, you found alfred and bruce infant of the batcomputer in a seemingly deep conversation. “dad?” you called out, taking your cowl off as you slowly approached them. bruce was quick to face you, the slightest look of relief flashing on his face. “what are you doing here?” he asked, standing up. alfred continued looking at the computer, deep in thought. “i was in the area and had a run in with some guy? thought you might have known who he was?” you asked, meeting him halfway. he let out a deep exhale, looking back at the bat computer with a look of guilt. “i’m assuming he had a red helmet on?” he asked, his voice gruff with a tinge of weariness. furrowing your brows, you followed him as he plopped down in the chair. the thing sounded like it was about to break. poor chair. 

"um, yeah?" you said, rubbing the back of your neck. you watched as bruce pulled up multiple pictures of this fire hydrant man, and it seems he  also had a run in with him. "do you have any idea of who he is?" you questioned, feeling like a broken record. "maybe. i'm going to see if i can run his voice modulator through a few programs. see if i can pull out his real voice." he grumbled, hunching over. "fix your posture. i'll go do a sweep, okay?" you say, patting his back before putting your cowl back on. you were off before he could say anything else.

you had been patrolling for hours. you didn't know what exactly you were looking for- other than the man in the red helmet. looking around, you noticed you were near gotham cemetery. the last time you had been here, you decided to actually start living instead of watching yourself rot away. grappling down, you made your way into the graveyard, walking through the ever so familiar dead grass. a place of such beauty and meaning, reduced to a place of pure despair. and that is the only word you could use to describe what you felt when you found yourself in front of your little brothers grave. 

the once solemnly beautiful tombstone was obstructed, but once you took a closer look, you realized it wasn't in the way that a tombstone would typically be obstructed. bruce had put in sensors to stop anyone from breaking in and stealing anything from inside the grave. not if something broke out. spinning around, you checked the area around you. there was no way he could be alive— he was supposed to be burnt to a crisp, beaten to a pulp. so how was he alive?? 

it was like your whole world was lit on fire. everything you had worked for up until now, gone. if he was alive.. what had you been working for up until now? everything felt numb. stumbling backwards, you started to make your way back to blüdhaven. this was beyond you. of course, as always, there was something your father wasn’t telling you. you didn’t think he already knew jason was alive, but you definitely knew that he knew how he was brought back to life— be it league business, or something more sinister.

kori and dick hadn’t come home yet— they were still off planet. you made your way into your room, stripping yourself of your batgirl suit and changing into an oversized hoodie before falling into bed. this situation was far beyond you. you fell asleep that night with memories and questions plaguing your mind.

you didn’t get much sleep. thoughts and memories of jason swirled through your head, plaguing your dreams and keeping you up most of the night. you had so many and too many questions. why was he alive? how was he alive? when did he come back to life? if you kept thinking about it, you’d be sick. you finally fell asleep around 3 in the morning, and you didn’t sleep too well.

the next morning, you found yourself thinking to the past. despite you joining into some of his little pranks and stunts, bruce never loved jason like he should. that was your father’s biggest feat. he collected kids like they were colorful rocks that he found fascinating. you came right before the first boy wonder— the golden boy, dick grayson. you were still younger than him, but you had more experience with bruce— he was a teen dad at the time, and you were absolutely fascinated with him. he had found a little girl wandering the streets of gotham, right around the same time the caped crusader started running the streets of gotham. the moment he saw your wide, innocent eyes, he gave in. what little heart he had left, it melted. two years later came the aforementioned golden boy, and then he became robin. jason came around 5 or 6 years after that.. and then it was history. 

you thought that after jason’s death, bruce would stop with his need for a child army. he didn’t think to involve you in his nightly war against crime, but that didn’t mean he stopped. he got more violent, but never broke his most important rule. you didn’t want to ask why he wouldn’t kill the joker; it wasn’t an argument worth getting into. but all you knew was that, in his own way, bruce missed jason. but then came cassandra cain. her and barbara were close, and she became batgirl for a time before you did, but you were never exceedingly close with her. you kept it short, because you didn’t want to create any bonds when you had been considering joining jason. 

you laid in bed, thinking about.. well, everything. you wondered how dick would react to the news of jason possibly being alive. would he react harshly? you didn’t know— no, you didn’t want to know. the two weren’t nearly as close as you and jason had been, but dick still loved him like a brother. the next few days were spent in bed, with you wallowing in a pit of your dying self righteousness. dick and kori came home to the apartment mainly untouched, save for haley’s food and water bowl. you only ever got up to shower, take haley out, and change his bowls. you tried to eat, but in you felt like you shouldn’t.  

“i smell an increasing amount of sadness and self-pity coming from this room!” your older brother sang, barging into the room without knocking. haley bolted in, running in circles around the room. you huffed, rolling onto your back to look at dick. you couldn’t imagine how bad you looked right now. “okay, what happened while we were gone?” he frowned, sitting on the edge of your bed, setting. the dog down on it. 

you were silent for a few moments, unsure of how you would tell dick that jason was alive. would he believe you? what if he already knew? he was the only one who wasn’t kept on a strict need to know basis, so it wouldn’t surprise you. taking a deep breath, you swallowed the lump in your throat before looking at the overly happy man next to you. you supposed you would go to hell for ruining his never-ending joyful mood. 

“jason is alive.” you murmured, your voice cracking as you spoke.

you could see dick visibly flinch, and he looked at you with wide eyes. so he didn’t know. now you wish you weren’t the one to break the news to him. “what?” he asked, running a hand over his face. you repeat yourself, willing yourself to sit up and scoot next to him. “i went to his grave. it looked like someone broke out. to make matters worse, there’s some guy running around that looks like a walking, talking fire hydrant.” you huffed, rolling your eyes. “do you think..” he trailed off, turning his head towards you. “i don’t know. maybe. he’s taller and bigger than i remember jason being, but..” you sighed, looking down at your hands. “but?” he asked, furrowing his brows. “i was in gotham. sitting on jason’s stupid ugly gargoyle. fire hydrant walked up to me and said that was his favorite gargoyle. i asked who he was, and then he said ‘who knows’!” you grumbled, raising your hands to rub your temples. 

dick sighed, slumping over. “do you think it’s him? i mean, that could be anybody’s favorite gargoyle.” he said, resting his chin on his hand. you shrugged, and fell back on your bed. “should we ask? or is that too straightforward. would he even answer?” you rambled, frowning. god, you felt bad. this was the most silent you’d ever seen him. dick shrugged, his gaze falling on the floor. “i wouldn’t be surprised. it’s been well over five years; someone could have taken him to a lazarus pit not long after he died.” he explained, causing your brows to furrow. “the what pit?” you asked, looking at him with confusion painted on your face. “it doesn’t surprise me at all that you don’t know about it. the league of assassins has this pit— the lazarus pit— that can bring people back to life. if it’s him, and he’s grown, then it was one hundred percent a lazarus pit that brought him back.” he explained, shaking his head.

you hummed, rubbing your hands over your face. “maybe i can draw him out.” you spoke, looking over at your older brother. your eyes met, his blue eyes piercing into yours. “you? draw him out? you who does the bare minimum?” he laughed, a grin blooming over his face. you rolled your eyes, nudging him with your elbow. “if he tries to fight me, i’ll call. or i’ll run. one or the other,” you smiled, standing up and stretching. 

dick eventually left, and you left late into the night. bruce was probably hunting for jason, given the fact that he’s already broken batman’s form of the golden rule. the no kill rule was fundamental in bruce’s fight against crime— literally. while he said it was so he didn’t turn into those he fought against, you knew it was because if he started, he wouldn’t stop. you made your way into the dark streets of gotham, the streetlights adding a dim hue against the concrete of the sidewalks. you had been lucky up until now— gotham nights had been quiet for a bit. but alas, it was gotham city. when could the city ever be quiet? 

you made your way to the building you had last seen jason at, seeing a figure sitting on the very gargoyle you had been days before. suddenly, you were frozen. your feet were planted in place, and you found yourself being too nervous to approach him. do you call him by his name, or red hood? maybe you should call him by his name. or maybe the nickname? you didn’t know, and your thoughts were soon interrupted by him turning around to face you. 

“jason?” you called out, your voice wavering ever so slightly. he turned back around, and you slowly approached him from behind before sitting down on the edge of the building. it was a serene night, despite the occasional sound of gunshots and screams. it was silent, until a voice rang out. “it looks like you haven’t aged at all,” he said, his voice masked by a modulator. this made you frown, but at least he was talking to you. at least it was jason. “you can barely see what i look like. i can barely see what you look like.” you said, shaking your head and sighing. it was silent for a while before you finally decided to speak up again. “do you wanna talk about it?” you asked, bringing your knees to your chest and hugging them. you watched as he leaned back, his head resting against the wall behind him. while you couldn’t see anything of his features other than how he’d grown, you could see how tired he was. you wondered if he was angry that he was brought back to life. ultimately, you didn’t know how to feel about his return at all.

“why didn’t he kill him?” jason asked, turning to look at you once more. you wondered where he got the helmet from. you weren’t a fan. “you know why—“ you started, only for him to cut you off mid sentence. “don’t give me that bullshit, bluebird. he'd rather protect his enemies more than his own children, and you know that.” he growled, crossing his arms. frowning, you were quick to object. sure, the rule got in the way of getting whatever revenge jason was owed, but it was still apart of his morals. to be honest, you didn’t know where your own morals stood in all of this. “you know that’s not true. you should have seen him after you died! he was hurting, we all were..” you said, leaning to look at his helmet more properly. you wondered what he looked like now, under the helmet. 

you could hear him scoff, and you knew this conversation was going nowhere. "where have you been?" you asked, deciding to drop the topic for right now. he took a minute to reply, and you could tell that you might’ve just hit a nerve. “the league of assassins, hunting black mask, etcetera.” he spoke, making you furrow your brows for the umpteenth time that night. he cut you off before you could even say anything, holding up a finger. “don’t even think about asking.” he huffed, standing up. even on the gargoyle, he was much taller than you were. “where are you going?” you asked, standing up as he climbed onto the roof with you. he tilted his head, and you began to follow behind him. “you don’t live with bruce anymore.” he hummed, the voice modulator making it sound more like a wheeze. “no. i moved in with dick and his girlfriend.” you explained, looking up at him as you fell into step with one another. “babs?” he asked, sounding surprised. he was probably shocked that dick was able to stay chained to someone for so long to move in with them. “no, kori. you know, starfire?” you said, watching as he dropped down from the building. you never knew how they did that all the time. didn’t their legs hurt? you frowned, deciding to go the safe route and slide down the latter instead. “where are we going?” you asked, following him down the alleyway. “i’m taking you home. and i better not see you on the streets again.” he grumbled, walking towards a motorcycle. “don’t say it like that. and you know i can take care of my self– i’m the older one here.” you said, rolling your eyes. “will you at least say hello to dick? he misses you.” you said, climbing onto the motorcycle behind him. you could hear him sigh before practically throwing a helmet at you, which you reluctantly put on. you didn’t need one– you survived dick’s horrendous driving.

there wasn’t much more said on the ride home. you paid more attention to the city flying past you, and the blow of the wind as jason swerved through the night streets of gotham and into blüdhaven. he stopped in another alleyway, and you got off the bike. 

“you’ll come back,” you spoke. it wasn’t a question. “someone has to make sure you and dickhead don’t kill yourselves.” he chuckled, though it was a bit empty. hesitating, you moved towards him and wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him gently. it was the first time in years that you felt mildly okay, even though nothing was really okay. “i love you, jaybird.” you sighed, feeling him pat your back. you knew this was the best you were going to get for now, so you pulled away, giving him a half assed smile. “and if you don’t come back, i’ll send someone to vandalize your grave or something.” you threatened, but he knew it was empty. for the most part. “stay safe.” he said, the engine of the motorcycle revving before he sped off. your shoulders dropped, and you made your way back to dick and kori’s place– home.

when you got back, kori bombarded you with questions. you hadn’t seen her since they left on that mission, since she was checking in on the titans when they got back. you explained everything to her, and she was a bit upset with dick since he hadn’t told her earlier, which was reasonable. the three of you ended up watching a movie before kori dragged you away under the premise of you needing beauty sleep. this was her code for a girl’s day tomorrow. 

that night had been the first night in ages that you had actually slept well. of course, you kept thinking about jason, but you didn’t have any nightmares, and you didn’t have this looming sense of doom hanging over your head when you woke up the next morning. everything was going to be okay. you had people around you that loved you, and despite the state of the city and your lives at the moment, you wouldn't ask to be anywhere else. well, that’s a lie. smallville was looking a lot better than gotham, but that was beside the point. 

you were going to be okay.

[ravenclawshermione]

New Chapter Up - "Totally Platonic"

He was a mess, a scorch mark on the side of his helmet, his jacket missing, the dark fabric on his left shoulder even darker with blood. 

“Skata,” I cursed, setting the knife down and rushing to help him inside, “Here, the first aid kit is in the bathroom.”

He let me help him, leaning on me heavily enough that I knew it was serious, “I don’t suppose you have any- Jesus Pheebs, did you raid a hospital?”

The voice modulator made the question sound harsher than I felt it was probably meant to. 

“This is Gotham, Jason. Do you really think it’s that hard to get basic medical supplies?” I said, forcing myself to stay calm as I pulled out a few things I knew right away I would need from the giant first aid kit I’d put together, “I need to get a better look at that shoulder. Is the fabric there something I can cut through?”

“Yeah, I took off the armored plating already,” he said, “But those are definitely not basic medical supplies.”

I didn’t bother answering, just got the scissors and carefully cut through his suit. The whole shoulder was coated in blood, but it was hard to tell how serious it actually was. 

“This is going to sting,” I said, pouring some peroxide on a sterile cloth, “Wait, did you come here without even thinking that I’d have the stuff to patch you up?”

“I wasn’t thinking great,” he admitted, letting out a hiss of static as I got to work gingerly cleaning his wound, “Might have a concussion.”

He was badly bruised, with cuts all over his arm and a couple of gashes on his shoulder. Most of them were more shallow than I’d feared initially, but one of the shorter ones on his upper arm was deep. Too deep. 

“This one needs stitches,” I said, biting my lip, “If you’re okay with amateur work, I can take care of it here. But if there’s someone else you’d like to call, I’d understand.”

“You’ve given stitches before?”

“Yes.”

“Stitch me up, doc,” he said, giving another hiss of static as he moved to sit on the counter. 

I got to work properly sterilizing the wound, being as gentle as possible while still being thorough, “Any other major injuries, beyond the cracked rib and possible concussion?”

“Those are the only big ones,” he replied, “Rolled my ankle too, but that’s already feeling better.”

“Burns?”

“Nope, the helmet did its job.”

“That’s good. Shame about your jacket though,” I said, threading the needle, “This is going to hurt.”

“I’ve got a few spares,” he said, not so much as flinching as I sewed him up, “And I’ve been through worse.”

He had been. I bit back the urge to comment on that, or to wish that he’d be careful. Instead, I focused on my work. It didn’t take long, he only needed nine stitches. 

“Alright, time to check out that concussion. Helmet off.”

He reached up gingerly, pressing a spot on the side of his helmet that was apparently a secret button, taking the helmet off with just his right hand. There were no bruises on his face, the helmet had done a great job there. Pulling out the small penlight from the first aid kit, I watched his pupils carefully as I passed the light in front of his eyes. 

“Yeah, that’s a concussion,” I said, pouring away the light, “Which means no alcohol, and unfortunately the one thing I don’t have is pain meds.”

“S’okay, I never take them,” he said, turning to inspect his arm in the mirror, “You did a great job.”

“Thanks. Now, let’s get the rest of this shirt off so I can-”

He shrugged out of it before I could even finish my sentence, careful not to move his injured arm much, “Did you work as a nurse before getting into the librarian life?”

“Nope,” I replied, wrapping the bandage around his chest and trying not to think about the fact that even banged up, he was unbearably gorgeous, “I’m an amateur, remember? My mother was a nurse. She taught me.”

“Your mother taught you how to give stitches?” he asked, dark eyes looking at me with concern, the green flecks brighter than normal. 

“Yup,” I said, looking away, “Are there any less than major injuries that need patching up?”

“No, everything else is just scrapes and bruises,” he said, standing up, his voice softening, “Thanks.”

He was so close, dangerously close, so close that I could feel the heat coming off of him, so close that I could just…

I took a step back, heart racing. It was just my brain trying to distract me, just the lack of sleep, just my hormones going wild because it had been so long since my last one night stand. That was all it was. I didn’t actually want to run my fingers across those perfect muscles, didn’t actually want to kiss a trail across every scar, didn’t actually want him to push me up against the wall and…

Keep it cool, Katsaros 

“Anytime,” I said, hoping that he hadn’t noticed.

“Looks like the adrenaline of your place being broken into by a dangerous vigilante is starting to wear off,” he teased, “You should get some sleep.”

“You’re staying, right?”

There was no way he would have come here if things were good with the others, and I didn’t want him to be alone with his injuries. 

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

[copper-meadows]

It terrifies Bruce, a little, that the first time Batman and Robin pull up to a mauling victim, Robin is acutely calm.

The girl is young, and Batman and Robin were made known to the scene pretty quickly as Batman scares off the dog with a taser.

Despite being the adult, he balks a little at how well Dick handles the toddler in front of him.

Later on, when the girl is seen by paramedics and the mother is finally calmed after being assured that the only physical damage present would be some scarring on her left leg, Bruce takes Dick out for ice cream for being so brave.

Then again, Dick was the one to threaten death upon his parents' murder at the ripe age of 9.

But the incident is filed away, deep in the archives of the BatComputer.

Dick is much older, and has seen much more, but he's still calm when one of his brothers is half-torn apart by a shark on an impulsive surfing trip with their hero friends.

Everyone is panicking because as much as they'd loathe to admit, seeing something that gory is so completely different than being in costume (because being in costume means they're at the very least prepared).

But Dick is calm, and his first aid more immaculate than ever.

When someone asks him about it, how he can stay so calm, he's suddenly 7 again.

He's 7 again and watching his Uncle-not-really-uncle getting mauled by one of the sick tigers. He's watching as his father rushes to help and calms the crowd down.

When he asks his father why he was not scared, he receives this.

"I was terrified for my friend, but panic makes your hands shake, makes you slow. He did not need my fear, he needed me."

Dick tells them that.

[dc-posting]

do you guys think that the batkids ever try and sneak weed into the mansion and Ace the Bat-Hound alerts that he can smell drugs and Bruce is just:

Bruce: I’m not mad. I just want to know what it is and who has it.

…

Bruce: And also where you got it.

Tim: *looking at Steph*

Steph: *staring at Tim*

Dick: I for one am just distraught that my baby siblings are doing drugs.

Duke: *glaring accusingly at Dick* Dick offered me weed gummies my first night at the mansion.

Dick: *offended noises of denial*

Steph: *nodding* He always offers me weed when I visit him in Bludhaven too.

Tim: *owner of the weed that Ace is alerting at* Yeah, he’s real into drugs and stuff. Kept offering me gummies during family movie nights

Dick: Okay in my defence-

Bruce: *head in hands* What did I do to deserve this?

Alfred: *vividly remembers Bruce’s party drug phase of grief* What didn’t you do is the real question, Master Bruce.

[prlssprfctn]

I know the fandom mostly agrees that Jason is that one always unemployed sibling in the family, but let me offer you a slightly enhanced concept - unemployed sibling Jason, who is the busiest sibling in the family.

No one can get hold of him. Like, ever. And it is not like he is lying, he is genuinely always has something else to do! Something random and unexpected, and, honestly, all his family can think is: what the hell?

Bruce, frowning: Remind me again, why the dinner in the circle of the family today doesn't suit your... schedule?

Jason, shrugging: I have a book club evening in the nursing home. We are discussing Margaret Atwood's Penelopiad tonight. Can't miss it. Also, Jennet-

Alfred, confused: Who is Jennet?

Jason: One of the old ladies in the nursing home, duh... Anyway, yeah, Jennet is having a birthday. She would be hella mad if her favourite grandson missed it, you know?

Bruce: ...Jason, you are not her-

Jason: (leaves)

Dick: Hey, wanna join me for tomorrow morning's training?

Jason, sighs: Sounds nice, but I have classes tomorrow.

Dick, confused: Classes? Since when you are enrolled in college?

Jason: Oh, no. I am a substitute teacher in one of the school's around.

Dick: WHAT-

Damian, calling Jason in the middle of the day: Can you pick me up from school? Others are busy, there is an emergency in the town.

Jason: Damn, sorry, kid, but I am not in the country right now. By the way, do you want to talk with your mother?

Damian: ...What that supposed to mean? Where are you?

Jason: I was planning to visit All-Caste, but first decided to meet up with Talia. I am kinda in Egypt right now, anyway.

Damian: ...

Tim, already used to Jason's constant busy status, sighing: I bet you won't agree if I call you on the lunch tomorrow?

Jason: Uh, no. I have plans. But if you tag along with me, we can get lunch together later.

Tim, surprised: ...Okay. What do you have tomorrow? Knitting club? A shift in library?

Jason: Nah, graduation ceremony.

Tim: Right, you are a substitute teacher.

Jason: No, no. My graduation ceremony. I am getting my PHD in literature.

Tim: SINCE FUCKING WHEN-

[sparkoflena]

Kon: Why are you staring at me so intently?

Tim, completely casually: I think I want to stab you with Kryptonite a few times. In different areas. For science.

Kon: ...why is my best friend considering torturing me?

Tim: I'm wondering if it takes you down so badly because it is truly that dangerous to you or if the invulnerablility of Kryptonians gives you a weak pain tolerance.

Kon: And you're asking me, a half human, instead of Clark or Kara?

Tim: They'd start telling Bruce about my "concerning villainous behavior" again.

Kon: And I won't?

Tim: I've kept fighting through pneumonia, a gunshot wound, and broken bones. And you go down when I poke you with a rock. Come on, you've got to be curious.

Kon: ...okay, I am a little curious.

Tim: YES! You won't regret this!

Kon: I will absolutely regret this.

[noodles-and-tea]

Do you think his siblings at some point find out that he was non verbal as a kid? And now they're so glad to see him yap away? Kinda like Bruce is, like they're all proud of how far he's come?

The appreciation does not last long but dick will certainly make the most of it

[batataran]

Kon: Wait, you're bi?!?!

Bart: *wheeze*

Tim: I do not see how that is currently relevant to our situation-

Kon: AND YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND!?!?!

Cassie: *pats Kon's shoulder*

Tim: YES, NOW FOCUS- *gets thrown by a tentacle*

Kon: SO YOU'RE SAYING WE COULD HAVE GOTTEN TOGETHER. IT COULD HAVE BEEN ME

[factual-flittermouse]

Bruce: Dick, what’s this I’m hearing about you trying to send Tim to Arkham?

Dick: For the last time, I NEVER said that!

Tim: As good as!

Bruce: *disappointed dad voice* Really chum, I can’t believe you would tell your brother such a thing.

Dick: I didn’t! I just suggested therapy!

Tim: *scoffs* Yeah, in METROPOLIS.

Bruce: *Gasps*

Jason: *Gasps*

Damian: *Betrayed*

Alfred: *Too proper to gasp so loudly, but almost fumbles his antique feather duster*

Dick: Oh come on, it’s not that bad! It’s close, it’s relatively safe, and their PHDs are less likely to go rogue.

Jason: *Cover’s Damian’s ears as he backs them both out of the room, still loudly gasping in offense like the theater kid he is at heart*

Bruce: I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed.

[rosemaryhoney27]

MisDialed Hearts

inspired by this Prompt

Link

Tim Drake was cornered—again.

It had been one of those evenings, the kind that made Tim question every life decision that led him to being a CEO and a vigilante. Another gala. Another crowd of sharks in designer suits. Another round of well-meaning Gotham socialites asking about his dating life with a glint in their eyes like they were just waiting to pounce.

He needed out.

That’s when it happened. His phone buzzed with an unknown number. An escape hatch from the universe. A gift from the chaotic gods of Gotham.

Without hesitating, Tim pressed Answer and raised the phone to his ear like it was a lifeline.

“Hey, babe,” he said smoothly, walking briskly toward the exit, waving apologetically to the board members mid-sentence. “You’re calling now? I told you I was gonna be late—don't be mad. I'm on my way.”

There was a long pause on the other end. Then a confused voice said, “Uh. I think I called the wrong number...?”

Tim’s eyes lit up. Jackpot.

“I’ll be there in just a moment to pick you up,” he replied warmly, as if this was a normal thing, as if he hadn’t just started weaving a lie that would need more patching than a Gotham street after Scarecrow blew up half the block.

“Wha–?! Wait—what do you mea—”

Click. Tim hung up with a satisfied smile. He could already feel Babs and Dick squinting suspiciously at him from across the ballroom, probably comparing this situation to “that time Tim faked an uncle for six months.”

He needed someone real to make this lie work. Even if it started with a wrong number.

And he had the number.

— Meanwhile…

Danny Fenton blinked at his phone. He was sitting cross-legged on his twin bed in his Gotham University dorm, textbooks open in front of him, a microwaved quesadilla cooling by his side.

He'd been trying to call his physics lab partner, but either she changed her number or—

Or some random dude just answered way too comfortably and now might be on his way to pick him up. For a date.

“…Gotham,” Danny muttered, flopping backwards and groaning into his pillow. “I’m too tired for this.”

He considered texting the guy back, but he’d barely locked his phone when a black car pulled up in front of his dorm building.

A tall figure stepped out. a sinfully attractive man in a sleek black suit, tossing his keys to a valet who wasn’t even there five seconds ago, like Gotham just conjured them from the shadows.

Tim Drake.

“Are you Danny?” he asked, walking toward him with a smile that said, just go with it, please, but in the most polite, billionaire way possible.

Danny blinked. “Yeah…?”

Tim opened the car door. “Perfect. Sorry I’m late.”

“…okay.” Danny got in. He was too tired to fight this. Also? Tim smelled like expensive cologne and decisions that made bad ideas sound good.

“Just so you know,” Danny said as they pulled into traffic, “I have no idea what’s going on.”

Tim gave him a sideways glance, smirk playing on his lips. “You called me. I just answered.”

“You said you were picking me up for a date.”

“And I’m a man of my word.”

Danny stared at him, dumbfounded. “Are you always like this?”

“Only when I’m being watched.”

Danny glanced behind them. Yep. That was definitely Nightwing in a very poorly concealed civilian outfit tailing their car. Robin was flying overhead. Batgirl’s silhouette was just visible on a rooftop.

“Oh my god,” Danny muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You dragged me into a Bat thing, didn’t you?”

Tim gave him an innocent look. “Do you want dinner? I know a place.”

Danny stared at him for another beat, then leaned back in the seat with a sigh.

“You know what? Fine. You’re hot, I’m tired, and I skipped lunch. Let’s go.”

Tim smirked again. “Excellent. Just don’t be surprised if someone tries to kill us. It’s Gotham, after all.”

Danny groaned. “That’s fine. I’m half-dead anyway.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Wait—what?”

Danny smirked this time. “You faked a boyfriend. I fake being alive sometimes. Let’s call it even.”

Tim laughed. “Oh, I like you.”

“I’m still charging you for gas money,” Danny deadpanned.

"But I'm the one driving"

"So."

They were a disaster already. Gotham might never recover.

[churomo]

casual tim sketchbook doodles!!

[magnetokisser]

500 gigawatts of the power of God.

summary: you're the only one in this godforsaken family who isn't apart of the night crew that cleans up gotham every night. you didn't hate it, but you didn't like it either. that was until jason died. now, you had to learn how to cope, while simultaneously trying to warm up to your new brother– or jason's replacement.

pairing(s): all platonic/familial, mostly dick and jason

word count: 2.0k ish

warning(s): antidepressants are brought up like twice or thrice and its a bit obvious reader is very upset lol

authors note: heavy mouthwashing (game by CRITICAL REFLEX on steam) fixation rn, so yes, the title is from the game. go play it! this isn't really canon following, so sorry if it doesn't exactly follow the comics canon. I tend to jump around a bit, so sorry lol

objectively, living with bruce wayne seemed like one of the best things that could ever happen to well, anybody. he was rich, seemed kind, and provided a roof over your head. that’s all you needed, right? you needed to be grateful for everything he gave you— he took you in and put a roof over your head. that was what really mattered.

you were bruce wayne’s first kid. coming right before dick grayson- the soon to be boy wonder-you were the light of his life for a few years before the golden boy came along. you held no grudges against him since, well, he was basically older than you, and he doted over you all the time. he was the perfect ray of sunshine the dark walls of the wayne manor needed. as time passed, and the dynamic duo formed, attention shifted from you and more onto the crime ridden streets of gotham. you helped in the background sometimes, patching your brother and father up when alfred had his hands full and, before barbara gordon came around, told them where in gotham crime spiked the most. it was an odd dynamic at first, but you grew used to it. even if it wasn’t normal family bonding time, it was something. you enjoyed being around them anyway.

and then jason todd came along. upon being caught stealing the wheels of the batmobile, bruce took him in. he was apprehensive, a bit violent and a little too carefree. but the two of you clicked. he would come to you to escape from bruce, even though the old man knew where he would go every single time. dick grew to like him as well. gothamites loved the three of you, deeming you all the only things that could keep bruce wayne single. the three of you took this and ran, making sure to act like spoiled brats in front of him at galas. before jason came around, you were the peace bruce needed in life. now, you two got into trouble at every turn.

months passed, and bruce kept fighting crime with a robin as he had always done. dick had moved on to become nightwing— leader of the teen titans along with kori, aka star fire. it made you happy to see that your older brother was making a name for himself outside of the caped crusader, though you didn’t know if you were necessarily a fan of the spandex. while you weren’t in ‘the life’, it didn’t worry you any less when any of the boys got hurt, and it didn’t worry you any less when jason had snuck off one night, his robin suit missing. from what you knew, bruce and jason were on patrol a few nights ago when they got into an argument; after that, he was on a patrol ban. for a while now, jason was growing more agitated— more reckless. he wanted to bring things that batman didn’t agree with in the mix, like death and violence. of course, this caused a lot of arguments and disagreements, but at the end of the day, they were fine, right? they always bounced back. he was his son, after all. and while he had some.. unorthodox forms of raising his kids, he loved them. he just didn’t realize he never said it enough.

you didn’t know the exact timeline of how things went down that night, and you didn’t really want to. from what alfred told you, their argument from the night prior escalated to heights that they hadn’t really seen yet. in a blur of rage and revenge, he snuck out of the manor to find the joker and avenge his mother, not knowing she was the one who ratted him out. you didn’t want to know anything else after that, since you knew both of them had met their untimely ends. 

after that, it was like a hole formed in your heart and your world got a little bit dimmer. you had taken off the rose colored glasses, and faced the real brutality the life gave your family. 

the funeral was hard. only five people attended including yourself, those people being alfred, bruce, commissioner gordon and his daughter, barbara. they even had the audacity to bury him next to his mother. dick didn’t show up because he was off planet, and didn’t know jason died. he didn’t know for a month. when he did find out.. it was bad. days were filled with dick and bruce arguing, and he even managed to get you to stay with him in blüdhaven for a bit, which was well needed. but you knew, despite how much of an asshole bruce was being, he needed someone other than alfred right now. so, reluctantly, you returned to wayne manor. as for the media’s reaction to jason’s death, bruce said he died in a terrorist attack while searching for his mother in ethiopia— he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. a casualty of circumstance.

the first year was harder than you could have imagined. it got harder and harder to get up every morning. you always had to walk past his room on the way out of your own, and you slowly stopped responding to dick’s texts. alfred, finally deciding to intervene, managed to get you to see a doctor and got you put on anti depressants. it didn’t really help, but you were still alive. the urge to take your own life and join jason was still there, but the whispers weren’t as strong. sometimes you felt like alfred needed the help more. one day he had told you that the curtains had closed on their own, despite the windows being closed and the wind being nonexistent. you entertained the idea of jay watching over you all, and promised alfred you wouldn't tell your father. the old man needed to indulge in something every now and then, too. it secretly comforted you too.

despite your growing disdain for vigilantism, you ended up becoming the new batgirl. you weren’t nearly as smart or tech savvy as barbara gordon, but you could fight, and that was what mattered. you tried not to patrol with bruce as much, but when your patrol hours overlapped, you would notice him following you deep in the shadows sometimes. as overbearing as it felt, it comforted you to know that he was watching. you hoped he was proud of you to some extent.

jason’s death changed the trajectory of batman’s meaning and life. so when you became batgirl, he had a few.. choice words and a lot of rules, but sometimes alfred would help you sneak out without bruce knowing. one time, you even ran into dick while on patrol. to say he was shocked would be an understatement.

“so you decided to join the fight, huh?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the building you were sitting on. “yeah, i guess you could say that.” you murmured, looking down at the liveliness of gotham at night. it was silent for a few moments, and for once, the gotham night was silent. no screams, no gunshots, and no laughing. your older brother finally spoke up, a sigh falling from his lips as he glanced at you. “how have you been?” he asked, taking off his domino mask to actually look at you. you took off your cowl, letting the cool air hit your face as you looked up at the night sky. “alfred is making me pop pills now, and i wouldn’t be surprised if dad was watching us have this very conversation right now,” you sighed, looking over at dick, “i haven’t really been happy, but i don’t think anyone can really be happy in gotham.” 

dick laughed, looking down at the street below. “i don’t think i’ve ever heard anything more true.” he spoke, intertwining his fingers in lap. “you should come live with me. i know it doesn’t erase what happened, and it doesn’t change really anything at all, but i think a change of pace will be good for you. and don’t start with that ‘dad needs me’ bullshit. he barely pays attention to you as is.” he says, grumbling the last part under his breath. he had a point; bruce was either keeping up his billionaire playboy persona that was also the ceo of wayne enterprises or cleaning up the streets of gotham at night as batman. you let out an exhale, watching as your breath vaporized in the air. “i’ll think about it. is that good enough?” you offered, giving him a small, yet rare smile. he immediately grinned and wrapped his arm around you, his blue eyes lighting up ever so slightly. “that’s more than i thought i’d get!” he exclaimed, his laugh booming through the air.

four more years passed, and while you hadn’t moved on yet, you were getting better. that was before a boy named tim drake came waltzing into your life. at the ripe age of fourteen, he had saved batman and successfully been enlisted as the next robin. in your eyes, even though you’d never say it out loud, he was jason’s replacement. tim’s arrival brought emotions you had long buried rushing back, and it was then you finally decided to consider dick’s offer of moving in with him— either as his new ‘protege’ or as a titan. you started taking ‘medicine’ again, and slipped off one night after putting a note on alfred’s nightstand. 

there was nothing wrong with tim. he was smart and outgoing— he almost reminded you of your older brother when he became robin, and he had smarts that rivaled that of barbara’s when she was batgirl. hell, his first interaction with bruce was him telling him that he knew he was batman, you were batgirl, and that dick was nightwing. he also knew that jason todd was the previous robin before him. you had to give him credit; he didn’t want to be robin. he only wanted to help. but bruce was the one who pushed him to become robin, thus replacing his late son— if he even considered jason that at all. tim tried talking to you before you moved out, and even offered to leave because he thought he was the reason you were leaving. he was nice to talk to, but you really couldn’t help but feel like he was a painful reminder of what had came before him. you just couldn’t take it in the manor anymore. there were too many lingering memories.

moving in with dick helped a lot more than you thought it would, even though you’d never tell him that. you later found out that kori was the one who pushed him to push you into moving in with him. she wanted to help you heal, and form a sister relationship with you that she never got with her own. you appreciated her, and was happy she was around. when her and dick were doing titan business or off planet, you took care of haley. you continued being batgirl, and life was.. calm. you were as happy as you could get yourself to be for the moment, and you had people around you who loved you.

it was a quiet night. that was what you loved about blüdhaven over gotham— there were more quiet nights in weeks than there were in a year in gotham. dick and kori had been off grid for a bit, leaving tim to lead the titans for the time being. some new faces had appeared in wayne manor, like the appearance of bruce’s cousin kate and the rescue of cassandra from the league of shadows. other than the few international incidents that the justice league would cause, things were peaceful. you were currently sitting on one of the gargoyles gotham characteristically had. it was jason’s favorite, and it was where you went after his death. you weren’t a fan of going to his grave, since the last time, you had an epiphany. you had felt it. 500 gigawatts of the power of god. it was then you decided to shape up, and live for jason. 

just as you were starting to relax against the wall behind you, a voice sounded from above you. 

“my favorite gargoyle, huh?”

[ifyoucandaniel]

this is so stupid but here’s a little comic i made for a little bingo au me and @twisted-tales-told came up with a few weeks ago. pretty much just the idea that jason needed a cover at some point and stumbled in on bingo night and was quickly adopted by the little old ladies there. now he plays every friday and has beef with dora and gets sent home with banana bread :) clara is trying to set him up with her grandson and all of her problems with her land lord have mysteriously been solved :))

being involved in his community is very important to jason and he loves seeing them host community events bc it feels like his home is healing

bonus: none of the bats have the faintest idea what Jason does in his spare time aside from babs and dick is so butthurt he wasn’t invited (not pictured: nightwing outside the bingo hall window looking in look a kicked puppy while jason flips him off)

(this is my first comic pls be nice it’s just a sketch)

[timmydraker]

When Tim is seven, they have a parent career day at his school. The point of the project is to showcase to other classmates, staff and the parents and families that visit what their parent or parents do for a living.

A lot of the students have businesmen for dads and stay at home mums, as typical for the high class, but not all of them do. Some are CEO’s, some own a unique company or business, or got their wealth from sports or entertainment.

For Tim, his parents have two very unique jobs even if they are technically from generational wealth, that being Drake Industries that creates medical supplies as well as funds vehicles like ambulances and fire trucks. Stuff that looks great on paper and gets them support even if the two care little for it and more for their second form of income.

Janet was more into the archeology that showed history in culture and progression of society, story telling and proof of civilisations, while Jack was far more fond of the animals that existed or still do and how they have changed.

So naturally, Tim excitedly chose to talk about their extensive work in the latter.

Janet had single handedly proved several historical theories true and false, her unrelenting determination to proving she was right and using her connections and charming nature to do so.

Jack had discovered a whole new dinosaur that he named after his wife, as well as being one of the loudest in discussion of such beings and their feathers.

Tim found he enjoyed his mother’s work most, as cool as dinosaurs were, because his mother had taught him about how ropes and cogs were once all the ‘technology’ anyone had.

So, Tim Drake set about showcasing his mums hard work and after being denied brining a rare pot she had found, he decided to make a copy of it out of clay in the schools art room. The teacher helped him with dry hands and a kind smile, excited on his behalf as he so clearly enjoyed the process and seeing how else clay crafts were used.

Tim stood proudly at his table, several paragraphs written out and printed out for people to read about his parents achievements and a diagram of the skeletal structure his father had discovered not long after Tim was born. Many people praised him, saying how well he did for such a young age, only to be even more awed when he explained he made the pot himself and it wasn’t the real deal, but a replica.

It depicted Aphrodite as she stood over roses, at the time white but some clearly darkening as the thrown cut her foot, while she made her way over to a figure that was known to be Adonis as he laid dying from a boar beside him. It looked very simpler to real Greek art, though of course a little wonky and with less dirt and ancient clay, but the pottery was exceptional by a child’s hand. Hell, even a teenager.

Tim was so very happy, waiting patiently for his parents to come and see what he had done, how he had shown everyone in his school how cool and clever they were and even made some of the olde kris look at him with jealousy, but…

They never came.

Not because they were hurt or sick or worse, dead, but because they were too tired from their trip they had gotten back from a week ago.

But Tim was a Drake, he wouldn’t show his growing anxiety and fear, instead he stood tall and spoke animatedly too anyone who would listen and avoided questions on where Janet and Jack were just like they had taught him to when pushed for sensitive information.

Tim took the pot home and Janet smiled at him, telling him it was ‘nice’.

She didn’t point out the errors or anything, said nothing bad and had no disgusted expression, she just… called it nice. And moved on.

Seven year old Tim smashed the pot against his bed room wall and cried his eyes out until he fell asleep.

When he woke up he came to a conclusion: he simply hadn’t done a good enough job and if he was more accurate, had less bumps and used more polish, he’d get a better reaction.

So that’s what he did.

The second pot got a confused brow furrow and he was asked why he was showing it again, after all they were busy people and they had already seen it?

Tim made a different one and got a similar answer to the first, though Jack did give him a pat on the head!

Tim decided to make a few, perfect his craft more, until he showed them more so he could truely wow them.

Yet a funny thing happened while he made his replica pots and bowls.

He started to have fun.

Soon it became known to the staff at his school that if you couldn’t find Timothy, he wasn’t flagging school, he was in the art room. Given he had such good grades and had plenty of friends, none of them had a problem with this as it wasn’t affecting him badly.

Tim made a mug for his art teacher that was shaped to look like a tree stump and asked for help to paint it from his friend Ives whose mother was an artist, who got tips from his mum and taught his friend how to shade and paint on canvas first.

As thanks, Tim made Ives a little clay mushroom charm that the other boy made into a bracelet.

Eventually Tim is having so much fun with his crafting he’s even having to buy creams and ointments so his hands don’t get so cracked and cry. He has a whole draw for his art clothes lest he get too many dirtied, as well as a shelf in the art room for his creations.

By the time he’s nine he hasn’t shown his parents many of his creations and while he enjoys the bits of praise he gets, the lacklustre response just bums his out, so he stops. They aren’t mad about it, nor are they really in favour of it, they just don’t seem to care all that much.

Tim knows better than to waste their time too much and just enjoys their company when he can.

When Tim becomes Robin he’s started commissions within his school and friend group, including a smoking tray for Kevin, a chess piece set for Wesley and a rose candle holder for Darla.

Ives gets the most bit that’s because he gives them to his mum as gifts.

He stops his craft while he trains, usually too tired to do so, but finds making simple vases and bowls is calming for his mind. Batman tells him he needs to have ways to detach from his night life so they don’t get too blurred, a mistake he himself made, and so Tim uses his clay craft to do that.

He makes Bruce a mug shaped like a bat for him to have in the cave and it’s the first thing that starts to break Bruce in regards to seeing Tim as more than just the new Robin.

Tim makes Alfred a kettle pot, a simple thing as it’s his first time doing so, and paints it with buttercups.

Barbara gets a big eye charm that has several little ones hanging off wires from its base. The window charm moves with her to the clock tower even years after.

He makes Dick an elephant with pink markings over it like the one he saw on the circus posters from The Flying Grayson’s. Dick still ain’t happy about there being someone in his brothers suit, not really, but he was never going to truely take that out on Tim and seeing the sweet gift left in his car makes him feel a little lighter.

It still hurts them all to see a young boy in their house that’s not Jason, but with Tim being so different they soon stop making the comparisons so much. There’s still damage down, words that will stick with Tim, but it’s not as bad.

Tim makes Cass whole collection of little things like a tiny duck and frog, as well as hats for them. He makes her a plate that’s just for her with a teddy bear curled around a heart, her initials on the back.

He makes Steph a stupidly intricately engraved brick all for the inside joke between them, but the way she cackled is well worth it.

His teammates get so many gifts he can’t count them all, though his favourite will be the mini versions of them he made and that they put as the centre piece of the towers dining table.

When Jason comes back he doesn’t make anything, not even when the misunderstandings have been cleared up. Jason openly refuses to change his violent ways even if he promises to be more friendly, but that’s not why. Tim is still so hurt at seeing his childhood hero so broken that he can’t bear to think of it, until he watches Bridgerton of all things and starts to think differently.

Tim comers how different Jason must feel and how lonely that must feel, so he makes him something special. It by all means looks like a book even it’s an all clay, though the bones and flowers over the binding give it away with their glistening. Jane Austin’s Sense and Sensibility was hard to paint, and that wasn’t never one of Tim’s strengths, so he doesn’t do the cover art and instead writes out the letters prettily and hopes it’s enough.

Jason never responds to the gift outwardly, but the way he ruffled Tim’s hair just to annoy the other tells him enough.

Duke gets three necklaces that piece together to make one big charm, blending together in a colourful spiral perfectly. One is for him, the other two for his catatonic parents. When he realises what Tim made them for her cries, hugging Tim so tightly he’s afraid he’ll pop.

Damian is the last to receive any gift, their rivalry far too strong, though it ironically Tim’s favourite.

The stump like cup has several little mushroom cups around its sides and set of dips fit for a paintbrush. Tim explains the centre is for water and the other parts made for water colour paints or even acrylic, though that will be harder to clean even with the setting spray.

Damian claims to not use it and only Alfred knows how he asks how to properly clean it without causing damage.

Tim never truely gets to show his parents his hobby, not even when his mum goes and he and his father get a little closer. It hurts him naturally, though when he spots an old high school friend at a coffee shop asking for a drink in her keep cup he made her, he decides that his city has given him what he needed. Gotham and its people, his friends and those who watched him grow up, they gave him the acknowledgment and encouragement he wanted from Jack and Janet.

It’s not perfect, his city isn’t, but neither was his first pot.