#al verse

[eternal-gardens]

[purgatorysanctuary]

“Who’s been here to give you hope? Who’s been faithful like the Pope?!”

[yhroa]

ABO ver

Pregnant

Inspired by this fic:

[eyesthecolorofarson]

Best Man

Dick didn’t know what to expect when he arrived at the Manor, but it certainly wasn’t a flustered, obviously swooning Damian.

He’d came to check on him after another one of his balls with other royal families. This one being the first to be held in a place called the Infinite Realms with family’s from other dimensions and universes.

It was stressful for everyone, letting the packs youngest omega leave and go to other countries–and now other dimensions–to mingle and chat up princes and princesses like himself.

Unfortunately he would be the only one besides Alfred to talk with Damian when he first gets back. Tim and Bruce were stuck head first into a bombing, Jason was tracking down the guy who killed three of his workers, and the girls were away for a well-deserved vacation.

That left him to walk in and immediately be hit with the scent of maple syrup, sweet and earthy in a way Damian’s scent had never been before. Damian made a beeline for him from where he was sitting, obviously waiting. “Richard!” Damian smiled, “We must speak! At once!”

He let himself be pulled to Damian’s room, his mind turning. What could have happened to make Damian Al Ghul-Wayne smile, let alone flustered? Why was he so happy, because he was obviously, very openly, happy?

Damian pulled him into his room, locked the door, then pushed him onto the bed and began pacing. “I will first explain to you the way I, and by proxy every other heir in attendance of this ball, communicate.” Dick let him speak, knowing he wouldn’t appreciate being interrupted.

“First and foremost, every little thing matters. From the way you position your hands to the tilt of you head, where you look, and even the position of your feet, every little thing means a completely different thing. This means that there are over a million–billion, really–things that you can say and express without a word.”

Damian looked to him for confirmation that he understood, then continued. “Not only that, but in the ballroom setting the order of which you introduce oneself to those in attendance is equally, if not more, important. As one could expect you go from those you deem most important to least. The shape of which you do these introductions also showcases this, moving past one party to another of higher standing.”

Here he paused, flushed again, and began fanning himself. “So, as you can imagine, a straight line means that you are the most important person in the room to this man.” “‘This man’?” He asked, some prices falling into place.

“Yes!” Damian said, turning towards him with a love struck, dazed expression, cupping his face and swooning. “Oh Richard, I met an alpha! The most wonderful, handsome, benevolent alpha in the world!” Dick couldn’t help himself; he squealed and hugged Damian, squeezing tight before setting him down next to him. “That’s amazing, Dami! Tell me everything—start from the beginning.” His little brother found someone! Someone who made him this happy—It was a miracle! Damian seemed very pleased with his reaction and grabbed his pillow as he began again.

“As I said, a straight line means you are the most important person. But what you do while you cross the room matters as well. Where you look, where you stop, how quickly you go, understand?” At his nod Damian flushed again, squeezing the pillow. “So, a straight line, with no stops, never looking away, and coming to me from the other side of the ballroom in less than a minute?”

“That means your very important to him.” Dick couldn’t help his high tone, Damian’s happiness seemed to be affecting him. Not like he minded; this was the first time one of his sibling came to him practically bursting with excitement about a potential relationship. This was a moment he would cherish forever.

“Yes!” Damian said, his tone matching Dicks own. “But that’s not all! The first meeting is also incredibly important, for so many reasons I don’t have time to name them all. But the first handshake can say a million things just like everything else. And since he was the first person I talked to–and in accordance to his standing-I gave a half bow to show I respected him but that I was also of high standing as an Al Ghul, dipped my head since he is a king and I am a prince and held out my hand waist high as an invitation.”

“And what he did in return?” Damian’s voice dipped into an excited whisper as he clutched the pillow and leaned in. “He did a full bow, bent his right knee and put his right foot behind his left with the heel raised, his left arm behind his back, took my hand with his right and kissed it long and deeply, all while maintaining eye contact!”

Damian pushed his face into the pillow for a second, then looked up. “And the meaning of that? The kiss? The eye contact?” Dick leaned forward, “What dose it mean?” Damian flushed again, his scent growing sweeter. “All of that combined means ‘there are no words in the languages we speak to describe your beauty’.” “Oh. My. God!”

“I know!” Damian voice was muffled as he screamed into his pillow. “And that was only the introduction, Richard! The introduction! Oh, and everything after was a dream.” He raised his head and grinned—a real, genuine smile. It warmed Dicks heart to see his usually stoic brother so happy.

“All while we were talking he wanted to know me. Not the Al Ghul heir, not the son of the bat, me! He asked about my interests, my favorite things—Richard, he called me Damian! You almost always refer to a heir by their last name because that’s what’s important to you. But he called me only Damian! I was important to him!”

Dick couldn’t help but laugh as he asked, “You called him by his name, right? Oh! His name! What’s his name? And you said he was a king, what’s he the king of?” Damian blushed–blushed!–and nodded. “Yes, it was only appropriate. His name is Daniel Phantom, King of the Infinite Realms, the afterlife dimension. Simply put, every afterlife that exists is located in this dimension.”

“Oooo, do you think there’s a queen? If the seats open~” Damian blushed at the implication, pushing his face into his pillow again and taking slow breaths. He was a little concerned about the whole ‘king of the afterlife’ thing–and wait, wasn’t the ball held in the Infinite Realms? Does that mean Damian was in the afterlife?–but if the Percy Jackson books have taught him anything it’s that the specifics matter. King of the afterlife is different from king of the dead or death itself.

“No, there is no queen. Daniel was only recently crowned after defeating Pariah Dark, the previous king and tyrant. Oh, I almost forgot to mention! You remember how the JLD marked Amity Park, Illinois an area of concern and in less that 72 hours lifted the warning without doing anything?” “Yeah, drove B crazy cus’ they wouldn’t say why or how or what happened.” “It was Daniel and Pariah Dark fighting for the throne!”

“What? Back up a bit,” Dick asked, confused. “What do you mean ‘it was him’?” Damian’s eyes shined as he explained. “Apparently, the entirety of Amity Park–Daniels home town–was dragged into the Infinite Realms due to Pariah Dark waking up and attacking! Daniel had to fight Pariah Dark to stop him from continuing his assault of this earth and the surrounding dimensions and universes, which is why he was trapped in the forever sleep.”

Damian swooned again, hugging his pillow as he sighed, “He saved not only earth but the surrounding multiverse, and confined in me that he didn’t even know he would become king! He said that the only thing that mattered to him was keeping everybody safe! Isn’t it heroic?” Dick expressed his agreement, making a mental note to tell all this to Bruce. He’d want to know about a kid Damian’s age who’s saved the multiverse seemingly all by himself.

Which reminded him, “How old is he?” Didn’t want another Midnighter situation. Damian’s advances on his first crush were hell to handle. “He’s one year my elder, and oh Grayson I was not exaggerating when I said he is gorgeous. He—well, hm.”

Damian paused and then pulled out his phone. “Please allow me a moment to acquire the correct knowledge of the colors blue, white, green and black so I can accurately portray to you just how otherworldly beautiful Daniel is.” Dick let him pursue the internet for a while, mentally filling out the start of a report form for Bruce. He returned his attention to Damian when he was ready.

“Now fully educated I can describe him in the detail he deserves. His skin is colored light blue grey and his face, possibly his whole body, is covered in freckles that take the shape of constellations colored passport blue. His hair is a dancing flame pulled back into a ponytail colored Mint cream, a greenish shade of white. His eyes are Lazarus colored, as is his tongue and blood. His teeth are sharp canines, piercing skin easily.”

A little worried how he knew that, but Dick would ask later. “His crown, the Crown of Fire, is a halo of Vantablack ice. The other piece showcasing his status is the Ring of Rage, colored same shade of black with a gemstone colored Carmine red.”

Damian sighed dreamily. “He was dressed elegantly, a Lazarus green suit vest over a vantablack button up and tie. His cape was clasped around his shoulders with a gold chain, pure white on the outside but a galaxy on the inside. It moved, Richard. He told me it changed galaxies and that at the moment it was showing the galaxy of dimension 62V-K.”

“Richard,” Damian said softly, his face flushed and eyes shining. “When he took my hand….I shivered. At first I thought nothing of it, but the longer I stood by his side it became harder and harder to deny it. His scent was….attractive. Like hickory and rain, maple and lightning. He smelled like a rolling thunderstorm, a summer morning.”

“I wanted to be closer, to drown in his scent. But it wasn’t just me.” Dick was certain he was about to die. It wasn’t just him? Oh no. “Were there others?” Dick asked worryingly. Damian blushed more, shaking his head then pushing his face into his pillow. When he raised his head he looked dazed. “It wasn’t just me, Richard. He...My scent…we were in the garden when he brought it up.”

“He’d wanted to show me the animals in the sanctuary, star seals and pomerantulas. We were sitting under a wysteria tree watching them roam. We were….I guess you would call it ‘cuddling’. Just…leaning against and holding each other. His arm was wrapped around my waist while his other held my hand.”

Damian blushed again and pushed his face back into the pillow as Dick ‘aww’ed. He raised his head once more and continued. “He turned to me and told me he couldn’t contain his desire any longer. When I asked what he meant…..” Damian took deep breath.

“He asked to smell my scent gland.” Dick blue screened for a moment. “He WHAT!?” He leaned forward, thinking he had misheard. Asking to smell a scent gland was more than a big deal. It was practically a mini proposal! “Did–what did you say?” Damian smiled again. “I said yes. He pulled my hand and put his lips to my wrist gland. He inhaled deeply and shivered. Richard, he growled.”

“He kissed my gland and told me it was taking all his strength and willpower not to mark me as his mate right that second. I…I didn’t know how to respond, and without thinking I told him he could scent me if I could scent him.” Dick gaped at him. Damian was very particular about physical contact, even more so about scenting. For him to ask an alpha to scent him, to ask if he could scent him—Damian was more than interested.

“He immediately agreed, and then….” Damian paused and Dick thought his head was going to explode from how red it was. “Theeeen??” Dick inquired. “Oh Richard, he pulled me onto his lap and against his chest.” Damian fell back into the bed, still clutching his pillow. “He began scenting and kissing my neck, telling me he wanted me in ways he didn’t know how to describe.”

Damian sighed dreamily. “He told me he wanted to court me, to make me feel like the most special and important person in the multiverse because that’s was I was to him. That he wanted to spread every waking and resting moment with me. Richard, he asked my opinion on children.”

“Oh and scenting him was heaven,” Damian swooned again, “to claim him as my alpha, even in the smallest ways, made my head spin. Richard….I began kissing his neck.” Dicks jaw was so open it was practically in the batcave. “You kissed him?? His scent gland?? Did he like it? What did you say to him???”

Damian nodded, eyes blown wide with a smile on his face. “I told him I accept his advances and that I wanted to mate as soon as possible. I told him I’d never wanted anyone–anything–more than I wanted to be his omega. That I wanted him to be my alpha. And then…. Oh it was so foolish and irresponsible of me to do, but I couldn’t wait any longer.” Damian put a hand over his heart.

“I kissed him.” Dick gasped. “Wh–did he kiss back?” “Yes!” Damian said, sitting up. “He kissed me back! It was so….soft at first, but then—oh it’s embarrassing to say.” Dick clasped his hands together. “ please please pleaseeeeee tell meeeee. You can’t leave me on a cliffhanger!” Damian laughed a little, laughing louder when Dick pulled him into a hug, still pleading.

“Ok, ok, I will tell you!” He giggled, allowing Dick to keep hugging him, which said a lot about how happy he was. “We–well, I don’t really know how, but one moment we were sitting up and the next he had me pinned to the ground.” Dick choked. Damian only laughed again. “Yes, I was surprised as well. He—we were…” Damian cleared his throat.

“….I believe it’s called ‘French kissing.’” Damian his his face in his hands at Dicks scandalized gasp. “It…was so warm. He tasted wonderful, and I wanted it to continue forever. I….I’ve never been more impulsive than I was in that moment. I put my hands in his hair–and I’m surprised it didn’t burn me–but anyways, I pulled him closer to me. But it wasn’t enough.”

Damian laughed a little, peeking through his fingers. “I…ha…I flipped us. So I was–dear lord Richard, I was sitting on his lap! I was straddling him!” Dick gasped again. “My baby brother, straddling someone? Oh pinch me, I think I’m dreaming!” He teased, smiling as Damian pinched him. “It certainly felt like a dream.” Damian sighed.

“Did he like it?” Damian hid his face again. “Yes, very much. I could smell and….feel him, if you understand.” Oh my god. Dick ‘ooo’ed and Damian laughed airily. “He obviously liked it, but did you?” Dick laughed as Damian squeaked, gasping again at his small nod. “Ooohhhh my little brother is growing uuupp,” he cried, hugging him again. “He has a boyfriend, he’s being courted, pretty soon you’ll be mated; it’s too much! Just yesterday you were eight!”

Damian didn’t try to push him away, leaning into him instead. “You are ok with this?” He asked hopefully, “You will allow him to court me?” Dick pulled back so he could look at Damian fully. “Damian, I’ve never seen you more happy than you are now. If this alpha can make you smile and laugh like this just after the first meeting, he has more than my blessing. He should be more worried about what I’ll do to him if he doesn’t court you.”

Damian laughed happily, hugging him. “I am very glad. I was worried you’d be against it, for I know Father will be.” He had a good point. Bruce went over-protectively ballistic when he found out Roy and Kori were courting Jason. When he finds out Daniel is the fucking King of the afterlife? It’ll take every super to hold him back from going to the Infinite Realms and interrogating it’s king.

“After a few minutes of, um….kissing, he pulled back rather quickly, so quickly in fact that I believed I’d done something wrong. Thankfully that was not the case.” Damian said, continuing after a moment. “I’d asked him and he quickly told me that I’d done nothing wrong, and that—that I was perfect. He said that he was having trouble controlling himself, and that if we continued…”

“Oh my god.” Dick whispered. “Damian, show me your neck right now.” Damian gasped and almost shrieked a scandalized ‘RICHARD!’ as Dick pulled at his shirt. Thankfully, there were no marks, some light bruises, but that was normal with kissing. He allowed Damian to smack his arm after. “How irresponsible do you believe me to be?! I tell you I do something without thinking once and suddenly you treat me like a harlot!?” Dick laughed as he apologized, conceding that it had been a little rude. Damian took a moment to collect himself before continuing.

“It is embarrassing to say, but while we were, ahem….busy, his sister appeared to inform us the ball would soon be over and Daniel had to give his closing speech as the host.” Dick laughed at Damian’s expression. He knew the mortifying feeling of a sibling walking in while you were making out with someone, and was glad Damian got to experience it.

“Her name is Jasmine, and I do hope you do not meet. I know your history with tall redheads.” He laughed again at Damians expression. “But more importantly, after Daniels speech he gave me a courting gift.” Dick gasped and watched as Damian quickly went to his dresser and dug under everything to bring out a small black box.

Damian came back and sat down next to him, opening it to reveal a ring. It was a green gemstone with a black band. The band was carved into a blooming flower with the gem in the center with leafs coming out the sides slightly. The gemstone wasn’t one of this world, or dimension most likely. The color changed shades of green depending on the light, the cut changing with it. To the left it was zigzags, to the rights it was a jagged bismuth, and when Damian pulled it back Dick saw it change to liquid.

Damian pulled it out and put it on his left ring finger, and Dick watched as it changed shape to fit his finger. Damian sighed dreamily as he turned his hand this way and that, tracing the gem with his other thumb. “He told me this was his mothers wedding ring, and that she had given her engagement ring to his sister and her wedding ring to him. Apparently his father created this jewel for his mother and carved the band, and he said he’d do the same for my wedding band.”

“Man, Daniel knows how to make a move!” Dick whistled as he took Damian’s hand to see the ring better. “I’ve seen some amazing courting gifts in my day, but his mothers wedding ring as the first gift? You said his dad made this gem for his mom? Does that mean he’s going to make the same gem for you?” Damian blushed as Dick admired the ring.

“I believe so, since according to Daniel this gem is currently the only one in existence, making my wedding ring the second.” Damian stopped for a second, making Dick pause too. Damian was still and silent for about thirty seconds before he exclaimed “My god, it’s a tradition!” Dick blinked. “..what?” “It’s a family tradition! It’s something his father did, he’ll do, and our children will do as well! It’s generational!”

Damian was fanning himself and blushing again, and Dick couldn’t help but laugh. Of course thats what does it. A tradition. And probably also the fact that Daniel was already talking about their wedding. Damian was also going on and on about the wedding, who would be there and what type of flowers and what he would wear.

“Father and Mother will walk me down the aisle, of course, and Jon will be groomsman as well as Colin, Jason, Tim, and Duke.” Dick raised an eyebrow. “What about me?” Damian smiled at him. “You’ll be my best man, of course.”

[maythearo]

Dude no way, the fourth volume of the Desert Spider comics just released and is now on sale at Mr. S's Mystery Shop??

I don't have much to say except I wanted to make a cover-inspired illustration for them. And the title for this volume is simply the title for the chapter Jamil had the overblot. And Night Raven Comics... NRC... you get it.

Here's a ver without text:

And background composition referenced by the cover of Miles Morales: Spider-Man vol. 3!! By Mike Hawthorne and David Curiel

[ilovedagain]

A story of Damian's place in his family, told in verse.

There's a book in a library in Grandfather's castle, with people's illustrations and yellowed pages. Lines connect their names and faces, forming branches spanning generations. And down at the bottom is Damian's name. Mother's face and name are there, a beautiful portrait and sprawling calligraphy. But the space for Father's place is empty. He traces his small fingers over the space where Father ought to be and wonders what the reason could be.

"Am I a bastard?" He asks Mother one day, his mouth and mind running as she runs a comb through her hair.

The comb stops. She meets his eyes in the mirror, facing him in the gilded frame. For a moment, it's as if her portrait from that book has come to life. "Why would you say that?"

"My father is never here. And his name is not in the book—the book of our family tree..."

Mother turns and holds his shoulders with careful hands. There is something in her expression that he can't understand.

"Your father is the greatest man," she says. "And you are his precious son. His name is Bruce Wayne and he lives in Gotham. One day, my love, you will meet him and know exactly how deep his love for you grows."

That is the day Damian steals the book and hopes. He hides, takes out a quill, and replicates with careful hands his family tree. It is with a child's hope that he draws sprawling leaves and bountiful apples, deep roots, and entwined branches. And in each apple, he writes a name. Ra's al Ghul. Nyssa Raatko. Mara al Ghul. Dusan al Ghul. Talia al Ghul. Bruce Wayne. And Damian al Ghul Wayne.

From then on, Mother regales him with tales of Bruce Wayne. The king who protects his city like a knight, the man whose love for people burned bright. Damian drinks up the stories he hears from Mother like thirsty roots, and he loved and loved. One day, his mother said, he will meet his father and find the same love.

Like a sprout, Damian grows. His feet are grounded, and his heart burns with sunlight. His hands are tough as tree trunks and calloused like them too. He sheds blood and bleeds from his blades. Then, night fades, dawn breaks, and his promised day comes.

He meets his father at Wayne Manor. He is everything Damian hoped he'll be. Except—

Except—

Damian is nothing his father wants him to be.

There is a family in Wayne Manor and Damian's not part of it. They come from different trees, and yet Father treats them like branches from his own pedigree. And Damian—Damian—is the unwanted one.

It doesn't make sense. It's nurture against nature. With every moment Father dotes on his wards, approves of their choices and hands them responsibilities—

but not to Damian, never, no—

Damian's heart rots. A worm finds its way into his heart and scours. He is spoiled skin streched over an eaten core. Yellowed fruit, left out, and nothing more.

And yet, he loves. He loves Father again and again: when he breaks his bones to save them all, when he admonishes Damian because he cares if his heir knows right from wrong, when he writes detailed notes about his wards and never forgets a word, and when he settles his hand on Damian's head in a rare moment—a warm weight, like feeling sunlight for the first time, and Damian leans into it.

Drunk with sunlight, he opens his sketchbook and draws the day Mother said he was ready to meet his father. It was the coldest night in the desert, with blue-tinted sand and red blood pouring from his victims. The sandstorm that shook his bones was nothing compared to the relief vibrating in his body when he heard those words: "Good work, my son. You are ready to meet your father."

There is a page in Damian's sketchbook from when he was young: a forgotten drawing of his family tree. An al Ghul is not one to concede, so Damian takes the page and tries to understand.

He reconstructs the tree with hope it will reconstruct himself. More branches. More apples. More sons and daughters, even if he has to pause because his hand shakes as he draws. Faces drawn in detail and referenced from a family photo he wasn't in.

He gives each portrait a personality. Richard Grayson is penciled in feather-light strokes, hair wind-blown. Jason Todd is inked again and again, lines darker and thicker each time. Timothy Drake is penned in simple lines and logical symmetry. Cassandra Cain is painted with a thin brush, every curve in her lips and line in her shoulders there for a reason. Alfred Pennyworth is drawn with exquisite detail in the finest fountain pen. Martha and Thomas Wayne are brushed to life with oil paint.

Father adopts new wards, Damian adds more and more. He thinks he understands. Father chose them all, but Damian he did not. There are blood ties that flow in veins, and then there are waters that flow in trees. Water may come from rivers, seas, ponds, and rain. Blood, however, is always the same.

Damian looks at the family tree he made. Father's side is vast and flourshing with new fruit. Mother's side is small and old. It looks like it's not getting enough water. Damian resolves to change that. Al Ghuls live in harmony with creatures spanning the globe and time itself. Surely, surely, he can do the same with his father's family.

He loves again and again: when he cuts through the air beside Father; when Grayson is the first to understand Father, and Drake is their first responder; when Todd swaps his bullets for rubber and Father claps his shoulder; when Damian fights with the blunt edge of his katana, and Father observes the cuts in his victims a second longer.

"Not everything is a fight."

Love feels like a fight. He fights love and it fights back. He holds his tongue with barbed wire and shoulders past names like 'Demon child'. He marks down their birthdays on his calendar because they say it matters. Leaves his heirloom daggers in the back of his closet, feels stripped naked even fully clothed, and tells himself it doesn't matter. He loves, and he remembers those words—"you will meet him and know exactly how deep his love for you grows"—and he finds his mother's side of the family on a blacklist, and silent stares are trained on him whenever "Ra's" is uttered as a suspect.

"Did he kill again? Whose blood is that?"

He loves again and again. The inside of his heart is flayed and raw, red lines crisscrossing his love. He loves until it consumes his heart, and then he loves again. When Cain is Father's choice for a partner and Damian is an obligation. When Drake is entrusted with a business empire and Damian is watched out of the corner of their eyes when he holds a kitchen knife. When Grayson is away and Father calls him, Damian is always here and Father seldom speaks to him. When Father suggests books for Todd to read and frowns at the men lying dead in a desert in Damian's sketchbook.

"Don't draw these things, Damian. Violence is not to be glorified."

He loves. And he loves. He loves and stays awake nights wondering why his family's love is a forbidden fruit. He deeply yearns but he's not allowed it. He reaches towards it and it reaches opposite. He kills little parts of himself to have it and it can easily live without him.

"Who did he kill this time?"

There is a page in a sketchbook in Damian's closet. With people's illustrations and fraying edges. Lines connect their names and faces, forming branches sprouting apples. And down at the bottom, is Damian's name. On his mother's decaying branches. The poisoned apples.

[vclko]

سورة آل عمران 【133:136】

[dannyphannypack]

this is THE song ever for damian and danny are twins/siblings aus. every time it comes on my spotify they are all i can think about and i need everybody else to share in the brainrot

[dzone-16]

The cliffhanger ending of Across the Spider-Verse is in no way a bad thing because holy SHIT I wanna watch the next one. What an unbelievable hype-machine this was, while also being even more visually stunning than the first film

[psychicvoidtale]

[eternal-gardens]

Peace be upon you for what you patiently endured, and excellent is the ultimate abode. {13:24}

[justalexisfine]

I will NOT stop talking about atsv

I will NOT stop talking about itsv

it's MY favorite movie and I get to talk about it DAILY

[fallen-flier]

as fire loves innocence (rr! sniper tim)

inspired by @yjcorefourenjoyer's sniper! tim idea, who graciously let me run around in their sandbox. :D

beta'd by @pinkcowzz :)

first sniper tim idea here! (not reverse robins tho)

Some extra content cause I wanted to! The Reverse Robins idea ABSOLUTELY got to me...

It grates on Tim. The way Damian looks at him, like he's a piece of gum, stuck to his shoe. Or maybe it just hurts, because Tim is Screech and Damian is supposed to be his older brother or at least something akin to such and Tim has always looked up to the Screech title. He passive-aggressively snipes back and forth with Damian about the problem with his gun for days.

A weak, cowardly weapon.

A deadly force of destruction.

It was laughable, how much Tim is affected by it. He can tell that Damian is trying to keep civil with him, but can't quite distance himself from his strained relationship with Bruce (and by extension, Tim himself) and Damian's disdain for guns. And Tim understands, which might be the worst part. Damian was, from what he can collect from data, trained from birth. An assassin, groomed to the highest order.

In comparison, Tim is just Tim. Sometimes Alvin Draper, now occasionally Screech. Or well, honorary Screech or whatever Bruce deems him, because Tim has yet to earn the title. But it's fine, because Tim earns what he works for, always claws his way out of agony and frustration because it's just what he does. It doesn't matter that his father is in a coma now that his mother is all but confined to a wheelchair, being taken care of in a facility far from Gotham. Tim has to be strong. Be patient.

Do heroes cry, he asks.

There is no response.

++

Except there is.

Tim wakes the morning after his parent's deaths and silently screams, sobs into his hands. It wakes up Bruce, because of course it does. Bruce cradles him in his arms but it doesn't help, doesn't stop the rise of self-loathing and hatred and Tim just wants to snap and break apart. He is not strong or patient. All he feels is shattered. His father's gun didn't save his mom and Tim didn't save them either.

His parents are dead, killed by Captain Boomerang. He was too slow and not good enough. It's funny, it's hilarious. Damian has been telling him that the whole time, but Tim's just too stupid, isn't he?

So what was the point?

What was the point of putting away a gun when all he wants to do is take his father's pistol and shoot a clip into Captain Boomerang's chest or maybe his head until he's dead and gone.

Bruce is going to take Screech away from him. It's an oddly loud thought, floating with the others.

Tim has nothing to do. He's not even fully-fledged as Screech. Just some kid who managed to get lucky and force his way into becoming a ward of Bruce because he deduced Screech's identity. (It was the way Damian's hand always twitched to his side, reaching for a weapon. Tim does that sometimes, when he's scared and all he can feel is the weight of his father's hand on his shoulder and a gun at his hip.)

Just some kid who couldn't even prevent his parents from being killed because he was too busy gallivanting off in the distance, never taking training that seriously.

He was so close to saving them.

It's not your fault, Tim, they murmur.

But nobody's blaming Bruce for taking away your guns when you needed them, are they?

And Tim simply can't. It's too much, the guilt and frustration crawling through his throat, scorching its way through his mouth. Damian's slightly guilty shuffle (which is loud on purpose, because Damian never makes a sound unless it's deliberate) sets him off. Tim is burning and lashing out and everything is spiraling out of control.

He doesn't feel safe, not with Alfred, not with Bruce, not with Damian. He just wants to feel safe and competent and good enough again. 

The whispers follow him. Poor orphaned Timothy Drake. It was so nice of Bruce Wayne to take him in. 

Tim wants to strangle them. 

++

Tim waits until Duke is out of town. Damian, in space. Bruce, engrossed in a case. It's almost terrifyingly easy to slip from Timothy Drake's life into Alvin Draper's. It's far too easy for him to simply disappear.

Timothy Drake lies at the bottom of Gotham harbor, oh-so-unfortunately unrecognizable beyond a few items on his person. Drowned to death after losing unconsciousness and falling into the harbor. Two bullets through his lungs— caught off guard as a civilian.

(Just another drowned, forgotten civvie.)

Meanwhile, Alvin Draper rises from the ashes, burns the last remnants of Timothy Drake from existence.

Paris, he thinks, is a good way to start his career. 

Far enough so that the last vestiges of Timothy Drake are scattered in the winds, smoldering cinders blown out. Far enough so that Alvin can forget the blood on his hands.

You have potential, Lady Shiva says. 

I wish I had more, he does not say. Instead, he drags his fingers across her collection, looks at the flintlock hanging innocently in the middle. He grabs the bō staff instead. 

She looks at him, eyebrows raised.

We will be facing the most dangerous criminals in Asia, she reprimands. Choose again.

He pockets the flintlock, secure against his waist, but holds tightly to the bō staff.

Alvin smirks a little. 

"Hope you don't mind using a favor or two on me," he murmurs.

"My friends are generous," she concedes, a dangerous glint in her eye that says watch yourself.

a/n:

so. had some thoughts about this one. the timeline is definitely really messy haha but the main plot is: tim stalks batman, gets caught by damian -> obeah man incident (mom in wheelchair, dad in coma) -> tim becomes screech (robin but damian's vigilante title) and bruce's ward -> captain boomerang incident -> tim fakes his death

tim, i think in this au, struggles way more with feeling unsafe and incompetent. in this au, his predecessor came, already trained and bruce not needing an emotional crutch. AND tim's parents/ much of his connections to them (aka his father's approval and gun lessons) have been taken from him AND he doesn't really have this mindset where he tries to push back everything so he won't be seen as the angry/ emotional one (aka there's no jason-precautionary-tale hanging behind him)

tim chose the bō staff cause bladed weapons remind him too much of damian, but he'll put some at the end of his staff + start using guns eventually :)

also wanted to ease him into using more lethal weapons cause he's still teetering on the edge. it's a long long fall from here.

[crumplstiltskin]

medifan dump p1

[maythearo]

Yahoo! Scarabia into the spider-verse concept! That was way too difficult to design, idk why I got stuck on it for so long. I wanna make a comic cover piece with these two soon. I'm in my atsv era.

And UHH apparently Earth 912 is already officially taken by marvel comics but. Let's pretend Earth (0) 912 is different, idk 💀 I just took Kalim and Jamil's birth dates for their universe numbers lol

Anyone who might want to use these designs to make your own art, feel free to do so, no need to ask for permission! as long as there's credit somewhere kwndiwbfjebfj (I consider this the same I'm doing with the MH AU, I don't really own this universe idea or anything, just the designs and hcs I make up for it according to what I personally imagine of these AUs to be 👍👍)

[quiinniart]

for an au me and my friends have THAT IM SO OBSESSED WITH RAGHHHH this will be on my mind for the rest of my LIFE. thank you and goodnight.