#Tim Drake Has Issues

[jade-e06]

tim can’t take a compliment without violently blushing (which possibly is bc of their crippling self-worth issues)

I WILL GIVE TIM DRAKE ALL THE COMPLIMENTS IN THE WORLD MWAH

[timmydraker]

Tim Drake who was raised to not be allowed to ask questions at home and so he just assumes that he’s not allowed to anywhere.

It wasn’t like he was told he couldn’t, it was just that he was often ignored when he did or made to feel like a burden or even straight up stupid when he did. They were too busy to answer questions that could be easily answered if he just thought about it.

It doesn’t help that he’s a naturally curious child and can rattle off a dozen questions in a single minute.

So, when he starts being around and eventually living in the manner he sort of just assumes he’s not allowed to and naturally, this leaves him with a lot of internal turmoil. He does ask questions, but not things that are either able for him to figure by himself or something that he thinks could be a bother for others, things like how to use the new tech that came into the ace or where the fresh linen was.

Bruce at first is impressed by the way Tim adjusted to things so independently and with so little need for guidance, but even when he’s at his lowest he’s able to see how strange it is that Tim seems to put so much stress on himself for things he can get others to do. He assumes Tim is like him and just wants to figure things out himself, determined to solve things on his own.

It comes to a head one day when he watches Tim storm up the stairs while a confused Dick is standing below looking utterly bewildered.

Upon questioning him, Dick explains that he had just been asking Tim if he needed any assistance with his ongoing case as it seemed to be bothering him only for Tim to instantly snap at him about hypocrisy and double standards.

Bruce tells Dick to just give him some space to calm down and instead goes to see Tim himself.

His ongoing my theories since he started to get a clearly head and had talks with Dinah.

Standing next to the door to very clearly show that Tim can leave the conversation whenever he wants, he doesn’t bother trying to hide what he’s doing because no matter how he does it Tim will notice, instead he just stands there a moment until Tim looks up from where he is angrily rearranging his clothes… on the floor… to other parts of the floor.

Bruce holds back a sigh and instead speaks in as steady of a voice as he can, “Ducky, I want us to have a talk, not just about you. Can we please try?”

Maybe it’s the earnest wording and the way he’s invoking himself in the discussion, or the old nickname that Bruce hasn’t actually used for a while, or perhaps both, but Tim deflates like a balloon and goes to sit down on his bed and gives a single nod.

Bruce smiles and something it is so clearly Bruce the person, the parent, the guy whose just trying and not Batman or Brucie.

Bruce sits as well, parallel to him and with as reflex posture he can have with such a tense body, “Tim, why do you feel you can ask for help?”

It’s such an open ended question and Tim can’t help but scoff, his own internal perception making him feel angry at the question and so he snaps, “Because I can’t! You guys never offer help and even when I want to it doesn’t matter because it’s always about what Damian wants for dinner and what times are better for Dick for lunch or- or work! It’s only me doing Wayne Enterprise stuff and I also have to do Drake Industries stuff now and none of you guys help me because I have to do everything on my own-“

Bruce doesn’t want to cut him off but this confirms some things and if so, he needs to do fix some things quickly.

“Ducky, why do you have to do everything on your own? I don’t mean as Robin or Red Robin, but as you, as Tim.”

Bruce can only hope he’s doing this right and that he isn’t pushing in a way that’s going to hurt Tim.

Nothing can stop the way Bruce startles when Tim lets out a guttural scream of pure frustration, standing up and looking so genuinely past it as he shouts, “BECAUSE I ALWAYS HAVE TO! IF I ASK FOR HELP I’LL JUST BE IGNORED OR TOLD IM STUPID OR- OR-“

Tim starts to huff, choking on air as he lets out several years of frustration out only to collapse under Joe helpless he feels.

Staying as still as he can, not showing his concern or his growing heart ache, Bruce leaves a hand palm out out for Tim to take and asks as carefully as he can, “By who, Ducky?”

And Tim, he looks so angry at first and yet when he opens his mouth he sputters and hesitates, trying to say something before thinking better of it a couple times and then… then he just looks defeated as he can’t bring himself to give an example of this because in reality, it hasn’t really happened. Sure there have been times when people have had to deny him, but how rare has that been?

And when has he actually been denied for no reason?

Tim sputters again and this time he actually speaks and says, “But mum-“

Bruce has to hold everything in him back from giving the most heartbroken look because it will definitely be misinterpreted as pity.

Never has Tim look more like a kid even though he’s almost eighteen, he looks like he’s lost in a supermarket and the front counter has called for his parents several times and still he’s alone.

He gives an encouraging nod when Tim goes to speak again and stops, still holding out his hand even as his arm beg isn’t to ache.

Tim manages to say, “If I ask for help then-then I’m being childish.”, right before falling into a ball of himself while also reaching a hand out to grasp Bruce’s.

Bruce himself brings himself to the floor and squeezes Tim’s hand, getting as close as he dares without checking in first but Tim just falls into him.

He can’t deny it’s a bit awkward at first, but eventually he just does what feels natural and cradles Tim to his chest.

A moment passes before either speaks again and it’s Bruce, “Ducky, I want you to know this isn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have just let you take on so much by yourself and assumed you were okay, I shouldn’t have offered help and shown you that you can ask for it.”

Tim goes to speak and Bruce gives a small squeeze to ask him to wait, luckily Tim understands and lets him continue, “I don’t know everything, I have an idea but I think assuming things is what’s put us in this position in the first place. What I do know is that some things need to change, including how much pressure has been put on you and at the same time, I need you to do something for me. It’s not going to be easy but I know you can do it, Ducky.”

With a sniffle, Tim pulls away from him and looks at him with red eyes, “What is it?”

Bruce smiles, “I want you to try to not assume how we’re going to react to things. More specifically, I want you to do your best to give us a chance to respond to you better or even just differently to how your parents would.”

Tim look ashamed for a second and Bruce knows that expression, it’s the one Tim gets what he feels confused or stupid and so Bruce pulls him close again and says, “You haven’t done anything wrong, Tim. You haven’t made a mistake, it just… you were raised in different way to how we do things, right or wrong. Because Tim, and I’m saying this as clearly and plainly as I can,”

This time he nods along to his words and prays he’s doing the right thing and says, “You are allowed to ask questions.”

Tim starts to sniffle again and Bruce knows he’s done right, “you can ask anything, Ducky, even something small and pointless or something huge and personal or even just something without a definite answer. We’re here to help you, not hinder you.”

This time Tim cries and by all definitions it’s a wail, a heartbreaking and tragic wail of pure emotion as he sobs into his father’s arms.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I thought- god I was so angry and it was all my fault and I-I’ll

Bruce shuts that down immediately, “no it wasn’t, we should have done better to show you it was okay before hand. Yes, you did put more power to this than you should have but by all accounts it makes sense, and at the same time-“ because two truths are possible and important, win for Dialectic Behavioural Therapy “-we had a duty to you to notice and act on it. I knew something was up and I didn’t do anything even though I’m a detective and your carer, and that is on me. I admit that.”

Tim just cried harder and tries to shake his head no but then Bruce holds him tighter and he can’t.

He does feel stupid, like he made a big deal out of something small, but it was so big to him growing up and he wanted better but just… couldn’t take the chance.

But Bruce seems to want to understand and in a lot of ways already does, so…

“Okay. Okay, I believe you.”

Bruce smiles and kisses his head, “Thank you, Ducky.”

Dick and Alfred, standing by the doorway, both give each other a nod and start working out how to explain this to the Damian ‘Change Is My Worst Enemy’ Wayne.

[rhilumi]

And if I said tim drake was canonically depressed and I could provide evidence then what

[nesting-dreams]

Dick, drinking beer at bar on stool: They used to obsess over Bruce, but They keep fighting over me now. I wish they’d both take a break and find a new favourite person to fight over

Jason, is on the stool next to him: We’re talking about Damien and Tim right?

Dick: *joking to cope* wanna take over being their new favourite brother?

[sharksandjays]

ugh i could absolutely write essays about the fact that tim drake is probably the most depressing out of all the batkids. His birth parents hardly cared about him (he is book definition of neglected) and we see that he didn't have that many friends in school. And then he was pressured into becoming Robin and suddenly that's where he felt needed. While reading all the comics i really noticed how Tim is ignored by Bruce unless he is Robin. The only times we really see Bruce care about Tim is when he's injured. Hence, neglected.

Of course Tim isn't going to point this out because this is how he was treated his whole life. But he subconsciously knows that he is only needed while wearing the Robin suit so that's what he relies on. That's why I think he reacted so negatively to Dick replacing him with Damian as Robin. That's why I think he never switched to wearing the bat like everyone else did and instead changed to "Red Robin."

Tim Drake isn't his own person outside of being Robin, and nobody in the series is helping him change that.

[redisrobinhearts]

Sometimes, Tim calls Bruce daddy.

And while nobody except him and Bruce knows this, it’s something Bruce cherishes so, SO deeply.

The first time it happens is when Bruce comes back from the time stream - they hug, like normal. Neither wanted to pull away, it was the first time Tim felt grounded, like he was coming out from a haze or when a rollercoaster slowed to a stop after a near heart stopping ride.

Bruce clung to Tim, his son, like if he let go he ran the risk of disappearing all over again and Tim held on even tighter. He could feel how Tim had clearly lost weight, his hair oily and long, pale skin impossibly paler. Tim’s whole body trembled with how he held onto Bruce, his father.

It was in that sole moment, where Tim was no longer just Bruce’s from a few documents, but his son. Unequivocally his boy.

He knew Tim knew it too because only seconds after that his body buckled and he broke into shuddering sobs, his voice raspy from lack of use as he cried out for Bruce, his father.

Bruce followed him to the ground, cradling him the same way he had when he had found Tim wailing over jack’s body and scooping the blood back onto his father in a delusional attempt to try save him.

Tim had always called Jack ‘daddy’. He referred to the man as his father to others but when speaking to him he called him daddy. He had just never grown out of it and Jack had never told him to stop, because that was his boy, his sweet Timothy.

It was so innocent and Tim’s childhood had been subpar at the best of times so why would he ask his little boy to stop? After the coma he near cried the first time he heard Timothy’s voice, deeper than the last time he heard it yet sweet and while Tim may have looked different that was still his son, his little boy, despite Tim’s groaning at him calling him that.

So when Tim had sobbed into Bruce’s chest and cried out one choked little

“Dad.. daddy..”

Bruce nearly shed tears himself. He squeezed Tim closer, vowing to never let his little boy have to experience this ever again. His heart ached, whole body pained from the knowledge and lack of knowledge of what Tim had went through while he was gone.

After that it didn’t happen too often.

Tim had PTSD, that much was for sure. While Tim wouldn’t talk about it, Bruce knew about the screaming of kon’s name out on the balcony from Tim’s room, the teleportations to Kent farm and the desperate calls in the middle of the night after nightmares or bouts of paranoia and episodes.. but Tim never mentioned it.

As much as Bruce hated supers in Gotham unannounced, especially the manor. He’d let this slide, he had to. If anything kon never got upset or mad at Tim for this, always on his balcony in mere seconds, picking up the calls on the first few rings..

He’d woken to Tim standing over him in the dark or peaking through his only opened an inch bedroom door, all wide eyed and uncanny. It was terrifying the first few times he could admit.

He’d almost immediately know it was nightmares, sometimes he’d walk Tim back to bed, sometimes he’d let tim stay in bed with him - he knew Tim wouldn’t sleep.

But sometimes Tim would break into sobs after Bruce wakes - like suddenly snapping into it and clinging to him, crying for his daddy, like he thought Bruce was dead or gone or god knows what.

Tim won’t talk about it.

Sometimes, Tim calls Bruce daddy.

Tim won’t talk about it.

It’s a horrible tension in the manor.

Nobody will talk about it.

Sometimes, dick comes and visits.

Tim and dick have screaming matches - it reminds Bruce of his own with his eldest.

Neither will talk about it.

Jason accuses Tim of being crazy.

Tim accuses dick of thinking he’s crazy every fight.

Tim won’t talk about it.

Jason cracks an unsavoury joke about asking if Tim had to steal some of Lex’s cum for his science experiment.

The ensuing screaming match was more Tim screaming almost incoherently at Jason until he could barely speak - Jason, shockingly, was stunned by Tim’s reaction and sudden mood swing to what he had thought was a harmless joke.

Tim won’t talk about it.

Damian says dick should’ve just sent Tim to Arkham instead of recommending some moronic therapist from Metropolis.

Dick actually seemed angry at Damian’s words, which was different to the normal exasperation.

Tim won’t talk about it.

Tim doesn’t eat much. Alfred claims master Timothy has suddenly found he dislikes many foods than before.

Tim won’t talk about it.

Cass and Tim don’t seem nearly as close as before - or rather, Tim has shut himself away.

Neither will talk about it.

Tim mostly eats alone in his bedroom - or not at all.

Tim won’t talk about it.

Sometimes, Tim calls Bruce daddy.

Sometimes, Tim gets into screaming matches with the man he once looked at like he hung the stars in the sky.

Sometimes, Tim seems normal and then has mood swings so heavy it stuns his second eldest brother who himself has rollercoaster level mood swings.

Sometimes, Tim pushes out his big sister.

Sometimes, Tim changes entirely.

Sometimes, Tim calls Bruce daddy.

But Tim won’t talk about it.

[harpersdragons]

New Fic! (again)

It's Fine if We Know We Won't Change

Words: 2,033

Description: Jason realizes just how rough it was for Tim when he was training to be Robin

not canon-compliant, idk enough about canon for it to be.

Jason spins, dodging the incoming strike. He ducks under and slashes with the wooden sword. Tim blocks, ducking low and trying to sweep Jason’s leg.

“C’mon, pretender, that all you got?” Jason taunts, jumping over Tim’s leg.

They trade blows for a long time, dancing back and forth with each other. Eventually, Jason disarms Tim and tosses the bo staff across the cave. Tim jumps out of the way of his next strike, setting his jaw and considering Jason’s stance. Jason lets him take his time, tossing his sword in the same direction as Tim’s staff. In a real battle, Tim would need to be prepared to be unarmed and facing a weapon, but this isn’t a real fight. Besides, not many criminals on the streets are fighting with swords.

Tim smirks as he launches himself at Jason again. Jason dodges again, knocking Tim’s arm out of the way, then spinning around and sweeping his legs. He locks Tim into an arm bar.

Tim groans and thrashes his legs, trying to loosen the tension on his arm and shoulder, but Jason’s grip is iron. One leg is keeping Tim’s body pinned to the floor, the other bracing his arm as Jason bends it back. His thigh digs into Tim’s bicep, Tim’s breath is coming in short pants.

“You gonna yield anytime soon?” Jason questions, increasing the tension. The rule is generally to keep increasing tension until they tap out, but he might have to call it soon if Tim doesn’t tap out himself.

Tim just groans in response and struggles more. His upper body twists, and a sickening snap sounds through the cave. Tim yelps, and Jason releases him immediately, scrambling back. Tim rolls over, cradling the injured arm against his torso.

“The fuck? Why didn’t you yield?”

“I knew how to get out, I just needed a few more minutes.” Tim pants, pushing himself up slowly.

“Jesus christ, tap out if you need to. This isn’t a real fight.”

“If it was, I could have died. I need to know how to get out of that.”

“Yes, but this is training. We’re going on patrol in a bit, this wasn’t meant to be that serious.” Jason stares in shock as Tim walks to the back wall. “Where are you going? The medbay’s the other way. We need to call Alfred.”

“Calm down, will you? I can set it myself, it’s just a dislocated shoulder.” Tim doesn’t look at him, sets his back against the wall and bunches up his shirt, then tucks the end into his mouth. He grabs the wrist of his injured shoulder and guides it out in front of him.

Jason jumps into motion before he can do anything else. He gently stops Tim from popping his own shoulder back into place, and guides Tim back to the medbay.

“Sit.” He points at the cot, then moves around and gathers lidocaine, syringes, and a sling.

“You don’t need to do all that. If you insist on helping, give me something to bite down on and do it. I don’t want to go on patrol with a numb shoulder.”

That stops Jason in his tracks. “You’re not patrolling tonight.” He doesn’t glance at TIm, he just goes back to gathering his supplies. “Either I’m doing this, or Alfred or Bruce is. Your choice.” He sets the supplies on the cot next to Tim and then gently starts feeling around his shoulder. Tim’s scoff turns into a groan and he grits his teeth.

“Please, Bruce isn’t going to take care of my injuries. I doubt he’d let Alfred do it, either. So get it over with, or I’m going back to doing it myself. And I am patrolling tonight, so no local.”

Jason stares at him, taking in the way he’s braced for it, jaw set and staring straight ahead at the wall in across from them. He sighs, “Look, if you really don’t want the local, I won’t do it without your consent. But if your only reason for not wanting it is because you have some deluded idea about going on patrol an hour after dislocating your shoulder, I can promise you Bruce isn’t letting you out of this house tonight.”

Tim finally looks at him, an exasperated look on his face. “Bruce has never once stopped from going on patrol after being injured. Just get this over with before it swells too much.”

Jason huffs, then presses the call button on the cot. “The fuck you mean Bruce never stopped you from going on patrol injured?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. I’d get injured in sparring, we’d go patrol that same night. I’ve never been benched for an injury.”

The way he says it, so deadpan, like it’s expected and normal for Bruce to not go full mother hen when one of them is injured.

“How is that even possible? You’ve seen how he gets when one of us is injured.” Jason takes a step back, so he and Tim can be face to face for this.

“That’s different.” Tim shrugs, then winces when it reminds him of his shoulder. “You’re his kids. I’m just some random kid who forced his way in.”

“Tim—” The word sounds punched out of Bruce. “What? You really think that?”

Jason glances over, to see Bruce entering the med bay with Alfred right behind him.

Tim scoffs, pushing himself off the cot. “It’s always been true, hasn’t it?” He stalks past them, going back to the wall. Bruce gently grabs his good arm to stop him from leaving.

“It seems I’ve messed up with you. Let me start fixing it?” Bruce stares down at Tim, waiting while Tim considers it.

“Don’t worry, B, I’ll be fine by patrol. Just gotta deal with this.” Tim tries to pull out of Bruce’s grip.

“That’s not what I asked. I’m not worried about patrol, I’m worried about why you think I want you to patrol after being injured. Go sit down, and please let Alfred or I take care of you this time.”

“I don’t need the help! I’ve been patching myself up since I started this vigilante business, I’m fine!”

Jason frowns, if he or Dick refused medical help like this, or even Damian, Bruce would force them into the medbay and keep them there until someone else has seen to their injuries. Jason used to hate it, but he’s come to realize it’s one way how Bruce shows he cares. But Bruce doesn’t push. He doesn’t scoop Tim up and place him on the cot. He just…waits. He waits while Tim glares up at him, body stiff and unyielding. He waits as the younger man considers what he’s saying, considers his options, and then ultimately decides to go back to the cot.

Bruce follows, making sure TIm is comfortable where he’s sitting as Alfred checks Tim’s shoulder.

“Jason?” Bruce calls over his shoulder. “What happened.” It’s not a question, not even a statement. It’s an order.

Jason winces, Bruce is already pissed and he doesn’t even know what happened yet. Jason doubts that’s going to get better when he finds out Jason’s part in this.

“We were sparring, he didn’t tap out.”

“Why didn’t you stop before this happened?” Bruce’s voice is barely more than a growl, more reminiscent of Batman’s voice than Bruce’s.

“How was I supposed to know he was that close to being hurt! He didn’t tap out!”

“Use your intuition. We don’t take sparring that far.”

“Clearly you did, if the kid has that much of an aversion to tapping out. Where do you think he learned it?”

Bruce turns, getting in Jason’s space. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think I have a pretty good idea.” Jason crosses his arms, drawing himself up to his full height. Bruce is slightly taller, but they have pretty much the same build.

“Guys, stop.” Tim calls out. Bruce visibly deflates immediately, stepping back to Tim’s side.

“Why the fuck does Tim think he can’t tap out?” Jason scoffs.

“Knock it off, Jason, it’s not a big deal.” Tim winces as Alfred finally guides his shoulder back into place.

“Bullshit!” Jason snaps, “Sparring isn’t that serious. Injuries are supposed to be bruises! Not fuckin’ dislocated shoulders!”

“Drop it! You don’t know what it was like after you died! I had to fight every second to prove I deserved to be here. Bruce didn’t want me, if I missed a patrol, someone could die. I was weighing someone’s life against my own injuries every goddamn night. If I tapped out, I was admitting defeat. I didn’t tap out. I learned to escape, or suffer the consequences.” Tim is glaring now, he’s hopped off the cot and stalked close to Jason. “You think when I was searching for Bruce I was allowed to ‘tap out’ of a fight? You think I had someone patch up my injuries? It’s great, that Bruce cares enough about you guys to be worried about you, or keep you from making your injuries worse. But you don’t get it. Bruce changed. You had him before. You have him now, when he’s slightly more well adjusted. When he’s trying. I had him when he was broken. When I had to stop him from drowning himself in alcohol, or crossing a line he can’t come back from.”

Jason stares, speechless, at his little brother. Tim doesn’t talk much about what’s going on in his head, or what he’s been through. And honestly, Jason didn’t think Bruce was that affected when he died. He knows now that Bruce loves him, and it’s been a long ass road to get here, but he didn’t think Bruce had gotten to that point after he’d died.

Bruce looks heartbroken, and he steps forward, reaching for Tim, but Tim sidesteps and turns to leave.

“Tim, wait—” Bruce calls.

“It’s fine, B, you don’t have to worry about me.”

Before Tim can take another step, Bruce grabs his good arm again. “Tim, can we talk before you leave, please?”

“Why bother? I know where I stand, Bruce. I’m not your son, I never have been. Don’t sweat it.” Tim doesn’t even seem bothered by the words coming out of his mouth. Like it’s just common sense.

“No, see, that’s why we have to talk. You are my son.” Bruce speaks in a rush, as if he’s trying to get all the words out before Tim leaves. Maybe he is, maybe if Tim leaves after this, he won’t come back. “I didn’t see you that way at first, I’m not going to lie to either of us by saying that. It took me an embarrassingly long time to realize it. But you are my son, Tim, and I will do everything in my power to help you see that.”

“Why now?” Tim’s voice is rough, his head tilted downwards, as if to hide how close to tears he is.

“Because I only just realized you didn’t see it. I was stupid to believe you’d just know how I felt. That’s on me, son, and I’m so incredibly sorry.”

Tim sobs, and Bruce tugs him into a hug.

“I know it won’t change overnight. I know there will be good days and bad. But please, give me a chance to fix this.”

Tim grips at Bruce’s shirt, nodding slightly against his chest. Jason winces as he sees Tim’s injured arm pinned awkwardly, that has to hurt.

“I’m gonna—” Jason points at the door and starts to head out, before Bruce grabs him.

“We’re going to talk about you not realizing how much pressure you were putting on his arm.” Bruce narrows his eyes over Jason’s head.

“Yeah, yeah. Hug your kid, B, I’m gonna go patrol.” He tugs his arm out of Bruce’s grasp, and makes his way quickly to his gear.

He can hear murmuring in the med bay, probably Bruce and Tim talking more, but that’s not his problem now. They’ll work it out. It won’t be easy, but they will.

After all, if Bruce could convince Jason to come back home, that he loved him, that he is , then he can convince Tim.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Catch and Release

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: AU where Jason doesn’t die in the explosion and he and Tim end up attending the same high school months later.

Chapters: 19/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, Sebastian Ives, Jack Drake, Janet Drake, Donna Troy

Relationships: TBA

Additional Tag: Jason Todd Lives, Jason Todd-centric, POV Jason Todd, POV First Person, Tim Drake Has Issues, Tim Drake Has Issues, Tim Drake is Not Robin, Jason Todd is Not Robin (Anymore), Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Alfred Pennyworth Knows, Stalker Tim Drake, Jason Todd Has Chronic Pain, Jason Todd Has PTSD, Angst with a Happy Ending, Unlikely Friends, Injury Recovery, Emotional Baggage, Rage, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating

Chapter Nineteen: Fourth

For the next two months, Tim woke me up in the early parts of the morning to train. Bruce assumed that Tim took my physical therapy super seriously, so I let him believe that. I got out of bed every morning to run on the treadmill while Tim ran the drills that I gave him. Barbara stressed that I wouldn’t be as fast or as strong as I used to be, but I didn’t need to be. I just needed to be smarter than Bruce. 

Tim on the other hand learned fast, and he taught me a few things about myself. Sparring with him made me better. And it made Barbara suspicious. 

“How many months do we have left?” Tim asked. 

“October, Tim. And I think I’m gonna be late coming home from Barbara’s tonight,” I replied, “What are you gonna do while I’m gone? Go to Ives’ place?” 

“Um… No, I’m gonna go to the hospital and see Dad—.” 

I grabbed his arm. “Can you give him that box upstairs in my room? It’s from both of us,” I requested. 

“You want me to lie?” Tim asked. 

“Nope. I took ten dollars from your wallet for express shipping,” I half-joked. Tim playfully punched my shoulder. “I’ll buy lunch next week.” 

Tim stood in the gym with me, shifting his weight from left to right. “Did you need the money—?” Tim hugged me. It almost knocked me off balance, but I held firm. I figured he thought about his mom and needed something to hold onto for comfort. He didn’t talk about her, but I could tell it still hurt. I think that part of me was shut off. I didn’t grieve when I should’ve and now that part of my heart is missing. I keep trying to fill it with Tim’s grief but nothing can take up that space. I would’ve given anything to be able to cry for my moms or my dad. I could only cry for Tim, but it didn’t fix anything inside of me. I squeezed him tight, and he let go. 

“I might spend the night at the hospital,” Tim whispered. 

“Okay… If you don’t see me tonight, I’ll send you a text,” I replied. We didn’t have to talk about it. Besides, I had to shift my focus to a vigilante tagger foiling Cluemaster’s most recent heists… And I had a pretty good idea of where to find the culprit. I had to do it alone to prove to myself I could still do this. It had nothing to do with my plans. I just needed this as a confidence boost. 

**

After training with Barbara, I took a shower and headed straight for a suburban neighborhood in Gotham. I watched the house for almost an hour before watching a girl speed off on a motorbike. I couldn’t keep up with her on foot, but Tim had this crazy idea about me skating to compensate for my speed deficit. 

I thought it was stupid when he suggested it, but it was a huge improvement. I was right behind her until we got to a cluster of buildings. I watched her enter a building, and I took the old way up. I almost forgot how cold it was scaling buildings. The air whipped past, hurting my exposed wrists, but I kept at it. By the time I got up there, she was there with a brick. And the thing is, no matter how much the incident slowed me down, my hands were as fast as ever. I caught her wrist and squeezed until she dropped it. “I’m not here to fight. I think we’re a lot alike, Stephanie,” I stated. She moved in for a headbutt, but I was a little too tall for her, so it didn’t land quite right and she hit my chin. 

“Ouch! Jesus!” Stephanie winced as she clutched her forehead. She stumbled and landed on her butt, which gave me time to level with her. My chin hurt, but she didn’t have a lot of leverage on that headbutt. She really hurt herself more than she hurt me. 

I crouched in front of her. “Can I talk now?” I asked. 

“What do you want?” Stephanie questioned. 

“I wanna help you put your dad in jail… If that’s what you want. I just—. I need someone like you. Someone they’d underestimate, someone tough—. Can you take the mask off? I wanna make sure you’re not hurt too bad,” I requested. She sighed and took the mask off, and I checked her for signs of a concussion. 

Stephanie reached for my mask, and I flinched before letting her take it off. She took a good look at my face, and I got a good look at hers. “What do you need me for?” Stephanie asked. Her voice was serious as she watched my eyes. 

“I want to show my dad that I’m not broken… And you want to show your dad that you’re not like him. You’re the kind of person I’d trust with my life… But it’s not me that I want you to look after,” I whispered. Stephanie was the perfect person to look after Tim. I stared at the red mark my chin left on her forehead and frowned as I took an ice pack out of my belt. “Here.”

“Thanks… What are you asking me?” Stephanie replied. 

“Um… I want you to follow my brother on Halloween. I want you to make sure nobody hurts him. That’s all I’m asking… And I’ll do everything in my power to get your father put away,” I promised. 

She held eye contact with me the entire time. “What’s so special about me?” Stephanie asked. 

“What isn’t special about you?” I asked in reply. All I saw when I looked in her eyes was Catherine. I could see hurt, but I also saw hope. I couldn’t tell her that, though. I had to tell her something else. Something true but not as personal. “I know you’re a good person. That’s why I have to tell you my name. I’m Jason, and I know how it feels to be betrayed. Say you’ll let me help you.” 

“My dad might get out after he gets caught—.”

“Stephanie, I know how the justice system works in Gotham. I’m telling you right now, I’m not going anywhere. If you tell me now you want me to help, I’ll help as long as I’m able,” I interrupted. 

“Call me Steph… And give me five seconds. We’ll go and get something to eat… Talk details,” Steph smiled as she pinched my cheek. 

“My treat,” I replied. 

Steph pulled her mask back on and clicked her tongue as she pointed finger guns at me. “Wait. You said you’d help me? Who are you?” Steph asked. 

“I used to be somebody,” I replied without thinking. It almost upset me to hear the words come out of my mouth. 

 “You’re still somebody… But that doesn’t answer my question. Who are you? And why do you think you can help me?” Steph asked. She smiled a half-smile as she returned my ice pack. 

“I don’t really know who I am… But I—. I know I can help you if you let me. How about we grab something to eat while you tell me about your dad’s plans?” I asked. 

“Sure,” Steph whispered as I pulled my mask back on.

[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)

[batfam-stuff-posts-0]

Dick, reading a post online: 'Daddy issues make you a people pleaser but mommy issues make you a sociopath.'

Tim: ok that explains you and Damian. Doesn't explain Jason though.

[timmydraker]

Tim Drake first took a life when he was twelve.

It wasn’t in an armed robbery or attack from a rogue, not to protect himself or in defence of an innocent.

In fact, it was practically an innocent that he killed.

Batman was so deep into his grief filled rage that he was attacking any poor mugger or civilian in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Albert Jones, a thirty year old man working as an apprentice to his father’s shoe repair shop, was dealing with a recent heartbreak with some pick me up drugs.

Batman didn’t give his usual speech of ‘find another coping mechanism and don’t let me see you here again’ and instead swung at both dealer and customer. The dealer, a teenager no less, was left with two broken legs and a busted shoulder.

Albert was left with bruising all over his face and three stomps directly onto his chest.

Tim found him gasping for air as blood filled his lungs and was left with the truth of this man not having a chance. No ambulance was going to be able to save him like all the others, there was no basic first aid or well educated aid that could save him.

This was going to be the first murder of Batman.

Unless…

Tim didn’t feel good as he picked up the knife from dealer had tried to use on the bat and quickly jab it into the man’s neck.

And then he stabbed again.

And again.

Albert Jones was dead by his hand, not Batman’s, not Bruce’s. Tim’s.

The dealer, who was really just a kid, ended up taking the fall as Tim had selfishly planned.

Batman didn’t even notice or recognise the faces of either man on the news.

Albert’s father sobbed on TV, talking about his son didn’t even like being an apprentice but knew his father needed the help with his growing arthritis. He talked about how his son had been in an emotionally abusive relationship and just wanted to feel better for a bit, he wasn’t a druggie, not really.

Tim throws up and wears gloves for weeks to avoid looking at his hands. He swears he can see blood in them and not in a metaphorical sense.

Nobody ever finds out and when Tim becomes Robin and gets Bruce to stop hurting people so badly, he decides it’s worth it. That innocent life was taken by him, so his death isn’t on Bruce’s soul. It’s okay, Batman is still good and he’s getting better, which he wouldn’t have been able to if he had cleared his head and found out he took a life.

Robin never takes a life, not exactly, but seen as he’s already killed someone with his own hands, Tim doesn’t really hesitate at opportunities to leave certain people to die.

Rapist, pedophiles, zoophiles, fascist… it doesn’t really count if he didn’t double it by his own hands and he’s done that anyway, so who cares if a few stray people die from the new Robins pack of skill and baby faced newness to the horror of the world.

Batman always yells at him, ups his training, but Tim doesn’t care if it means leaving that one bad person behind helped him save more decent lives.

Red Robin kills more… purposefully.

Not in a serial killer sense, he’s not stupid, but in a ‘blowing up the entire LOA and just assuming Ra’s will dunk at least some of them in the pit’ kind of way.

Truthfully that’s it.

He’s not like Red Hood or Slade or Harley, he just doesn’t mind bending and shifting his moral compass every now and again to better fit certain situations.

Like when Kon’s clones woke up and he had to slaughter them all with an emergency kryptonite sword he kept on stand by.

Or the two he had to track down and hunt after they escaped and, thank god he planted trackers in them, because they weren’t Kon and instead seemed more like animals that couldn’t even talk.

Oh and that one time this guy tried to drug Damian at a gala and Tim managed to ‘dispose’ of the guy before Damian realised what he had tried to do and did something stupid.

There was also that time he cut of Ra’s head in a luckily opening during a fight and kept it in a jar in The Nest as revenge for the whole spleen thing…

But that doesn’t count, cause he just got brought back to life.

[plutonicbees]

imagine ur tim drake, it's the anniversary of ur mother's funeral, christmas eve, and you're absolutely shitting ur pants bc you let your teammate feed you the crabcakes they made

you're absolutely going through it, and then u find out that doomsday (not the villain) is coming in the form of a meteor. u try to call batman and he's off planet. u call up nightwing's team and they're dealing with their own battle. there's nobody to help so you and your team go to fuckin,, fight an evil meteor. one of your friends is writing a will. you're all ready to die (you're ready to reunite with your mother).

and then fucking santa comes and waves hi and your team tries to tell him to watch out and then the evil meteor crashes into his sleigh and fucking explodes him and the reindeers in a glorious gory death

man. what are you doing next christmas eve.

[kierancaz]

Does anyone else not like the way Damian is drawn in the new Batman and Robin comic ????

Like, after his solo Robin series, I just cannot look at him like that. He looks almost exactly like Jon.

Where is his tan skin ??? His green eyes ??? HIS HOOKED NOSE ???? They took away everything that made his design cool and interesting and new and pretty and also just like a huge part of his ethnicity.

It just bothers me so much like I want to read the comic bc it does seem pretty interesting but Damian’s design is making it soooooo hard. It extra sucks bc the art style is amazing. I actually love the way Bruce is drawn and also White Rabbit is super cool. Damian is just throwing me off so hard like that’s literally not him that’s Tim or Jon or Dick but that isn’t Damian Wayne/AL GHUL like tf look at this

He’s pretty yah, whatever, now look at this:

THESE ARE NOT EVEN THE SAME FUCKING PEOPLE ???? It’s not even a difference in art style bc there was plenty of variations in art style in the Robin series but he still had his main features I mentioned earlier.

Idk call me a nitpicker or smth but this bothers me so much if it doesn’t change at some point I don’t think I will be able to read the new Batman and Robin series.

[abisalli]

some panel redraws with young just us

[xnyu09]

Robin Volume 4 #124

[ahoyimlosingmymind]

jason forever resenting Tim because Tim's rich ass chose to drop out of high school, meanwhile Jason grew up knowing he was likely to be one of the statistics of 'Kids growing up in poverty/unstable homes don't tend to graduate' (further cemented by his time being homeless in ELEMENTARY school with both parents dead or imprisoned) until he gets taken in by Bruce and suddenly...

maybe not.

Maybe he will get to graduate.

And... man, he never thought he'd get anywhere near college but it's becoming a reality, something he could have. And he doesn't take a second of it for granted.

then he's brutally murdered. In his Freshman (sophomore?) year.

and then, his adopted brother, whom he already has a host of issues with, who comes from money, fucking drops out of high school.