Tumgik
#but Tim isn’t Robin at that moment
watchingwisteria · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
casually going for a drink with your bros after a successful villain takedown (from Batman and Robin Eternal #1)
90 notes · View notes
deadsetobsessions · 5 months
Text
Danny Fenton is so damn sick of rich fruit loops. It’s worse now, since he’s one of them.
It’s not Vlad that he’s with, thank the Ancients, but Danny isn’t sure that this is better.
Because he’s Timothy Drake, a baby, and he’s been reincarnated after the Ancient of Reincarnation accidentally drank too much wine.
He’s going to kick their ass so hard when he gets back.
Danny huffs. He rolls over, ignoring the silent manor. Sure, he’s read the comics. Sure, he laughed and imagined being adopted by Batman- come on, Danny had black hair and blue eyes even back then, he was totally adoption bait- when his parents gave him reason to lose trust in their love. But that’s it, that’s all he thought it was. A day dream, a wish for a universe that didn’t exist.
Danny hadn’t understood the reality of the whole Infinite Realms thing, a place he was now the King of. Batman? Real. Danny? Reincarnated. Hotel? Trivago.
Like, this wasn’t what he meant, dammit.
And now he’s stuck as Timothy Drake, and Ancients, he was starting to see parallels.
——
Danny tried photography. He really did. He wanted to at least stick to the source material. But that’s not who he is. Even with the shiny new brain that memorized, catalogued, and put together clues at the snap of his fingers, but Danny’s never been one to take photos. It’s a respectable art, for sure, but Danny preferred to live in the moment instead of capturing it to remember forever. It’s just-
He watched the Graysons fall. He watched Dick Grayson turn into Robin. And Danny can’t and won’t ever betray his Obsession like that, ever again. He can’t let Jason die for his “story” to begin. That’s not how Danny works.
He’s there to protect.
Danny hasn’t ever been just Tim. Danny was also Tim and the Ghost King without a haunt. But now? Gotham is his haunt. He, in lieu of an actual city spirit, is Gotham. He’s also a Drake. And Drakes were meant to hoard.
Batman and Robin? They are his.
He claimed them, as a Drake. But that claim is weak. So he claimed them as their city, and that is a claim that will never be able to be challenged.
Danny’ll be damned before he allows some lanky starved clown beat the life out of one of his Robins. So, for the first time in his nine years on this planet, Tim-Danny goes ghost and flies.
“Who- who. Are you?” Robin slurred from his place in Danny’s hold. He is broken, yes. But not dead. Danny infuses some of his vitality, his ecto, into Jason’s injuries to help them heal.
“Gotham.” Danny replied, layering his ghostly voice with those of the city.
“Goth’m?”
“Gotham. Sleep, little bird. Your city has got you.”
When Robin, Jason, settled with a sense of trust that tugs at Danny’s core, Danny carried him to Batman, whose eyes were wild and manic. He glared menacingly at the green and white ghost in front of him, who was holding his broken and beaten son-
Well, it’d be menacing if Danny hadn’t watched him eat bricks and mortar, crashing into a building while using his grappling gun.
“You-”
“I am Gotham.” Danny cut him off. Despite his wary nature and natural paranoia, Batman settled at his city’s gaze rested on him. Danny knew that Batman recognized his city. Batman’s head bowed, but his eyes stayed on Robin. “You were supposed to take care of Robin.”
“I- I know.” And that voice was all Bruce Wayne the Dad instead of Batman the Vigilante. Danny gently placed Robin in Batman’s arms, taking in the tremors as he held his son close.
“Go back, Bruce. And make sure Jason knows how much you love him.”
He laughed as Bruce whipped his head upwards. “I am your city. You are mine as much as I am yours. I’ve known of you before you were born.”
Technically? Not untrue. But Bruce will chalk it up to weird magic shit. It’s not like it’s a secret that Gotham’s kind of curse. Besides, this way, Danny will be able to help out more often. And Bruce won’t be able to connect Tim Drake to the “Spirit of Gotham.”
“Return, my knight. This is not your city. I can not protect you as well as I can in Gotham.”
“Thank you… Gotham.”
Danny sighed. He wondered when he’ll have to field questions from a John Constantine. He’s pretty sure Bruce will call in magical help, even if it was his own city he was investigating.
Batman’s lucky Danny liked him enough to allow it.
4K notes · View notes
dragonfly0808 · 1 year
Text
So my Batfamily brain rot is back (not that it ever really left) and I just had a thought like…
If you’re a henchman/criminal in Gotham, seeing your life flash past your eyes is gonna be a somewhat regular occurance but… what if like… the thing that truly made a henchman’s heart fall to his ass was when they hit Robin just a little too hard and this 10 year old kid just starts crying and goes ‘Daaaaaadddd!’
That’s the moment when they truly think they’re going to die because said dad, the kid is calling for is a 6’6 demon from hell who’s all muscle and shadows and vengance and a lot of Gotham still thinks he’s a cryptid
The henchmen all drop their guns and try to calm the kid down but it’s over in 5 seconds flat. Batman breaks several bones before speaking to Robin in the softest voice they’ve ever heard him use and the criminal world, who was already a bit hesitant to fight a kid have even more reason to take it just a little easy on Robin.
And like, I can picture different reactions with every Robin.
Like, for Dick, he’s ten and we all know he was the most violent Robin second only to Damian so maybe when he’s ten or eleven and has calmed down a little, a henchback who still remembers what a little shit he used to be decides to get back at Robin, slips on a pair of brass knuckles and BAM
And then, little Dick just stares for a moment in shock, cheek already starting to bruise, the criminals he’d been fighting all stay still because it was a nasty punch and then…
“Daaaaad!!!” He cries out in a whiny voice that reminds them that Robin really is just a kid and it all clicks into place.
Even Bruce wasn’t expecting that, Dick has just started calling him dad and he still isn’t used to being called that so to hear his kid calling for him in the moment where he is startled and hurt and a little scared… the henchmen don’t even have time to react and they wake up in the hospital with concussions and maybe a few broken bones.
It doesn’t take Dick long to calm down, it was mostly that the hit from a random henchmen really startled him and got him right in the cheekbone. But Bruce still finishes patrol early and Dick still hides under Bruce’s cape all the way to the Batmobile.
Then comes Jason and Jason was such a sweet kid, I headcannon he was the one that called Bruce dad the most often while being Robin. So one night during patrol maybe he finds himself fighting Penguin or Two-Face and it’s been a long night and he has an exam the following day and Bruce is fighting another villain at the other side of the warehouse
The point is, the henchmen and Two-Face start landing hits on eleven year old Jason in his gut and at some point he loses sight of Batman fighting on the other side of the room. Jason gets scared because he’s never really fought without Batman and while he knows that Bruce is still in the warehouse, he can’t see him and the handle of a gun hits the back of his ankle and he falls and he sees Two-Face or Penguin or one of the henchmen getting ready to grab the front of his uniform and beat him up and…
“Daaaaddd!”
The criminals freeze for a moment. They’ve heard the stories of what happened the last time a Robin called scared for dad.
They’re fucked.
They all drop their guns and try to get Jason to calm down, but he’s crying just a little bit and calls again, his voice breaking and despite having been at the other side of the warehouse just a second ago, Bruce somehow drops from the ceiling and it’s over before the criminals can keep pleading with Robin to calm down.
Jason tries to apologize for ‘acting like a baby’ but Bruce is having none of it and carries him back to the Batmobile and Jason is happy to just hide his face in Bruce’s cape because he knows his dad will always be there to save him.
Then comes Tim.
And Tim gets found out while doing reconnisance and somehow he finds himself face to face with Bane who manages to wrench away his bo staff and Tim is just eleven and he is scared because Bane doesn’t look like he’s going to hold back
All Tim knows is that the crack he hears must surely be his ribs either cracking or breaking and he can’t breath and he can only muster enough air for a single word… and he calls for his dad through tears and fear
And at this point… at this point Batman has already lost a Robin, Tim may not be his legally but he is his son just as much as Jason was
Bane spends a month in the ICU
Tim is embarrased that he reacted like that. He thinks it makes him less of a Robin to called scared for Batman… for dad.
So Bruce tells him of the other two times it happened. It’s one of the first times he’s spoken about Jason to Tim so bluntly.
Then comes Stephanie.
Stephanie never calls Bruce dad when she’s Robin. She’s not his daughter and he’s not her dad. They’re not sure what exactly they are to one another.
As far as Bruce knows, Stephanie’s version of Robin never called out to him when she was scared.
What he doesn’t know is that it did happen. Just once
It was the last time she was Robin. When Black Mask had her and she thought she was going to die
At some point while bleeding and feeling nauseous and so scared she could barely hear anything that wasn’t her own heart beating wildly against her chest… she called for dad. Not for Arthur Brown, but for Bruce
Black Mask laughed at her
Stephanie never tells Bruce
And finally… Damian
Now, we know Damian would probably never be startled enough to call for Bruce out of instinct, so I can see 2 scenarios in which this could happen.
First, he sees another kid do it. He sees a kid close to his own age laughing and playing, then tripping and staying quiet for a split second before crying out for mom and dad and he just… assumes that’s something kids do when scared and hurt and startled and does it mostly in an attempt to be a little more ‘normal’
Or, my favorite scenario… he hears of the other times it has happened. He overhears maybe Dick remind Jason of what Bruce did when Jason called out to dad as Robin. Tim maybe jokes that a Robin calling for dad is still the villains’ greatest fear
So Damian stores that knowledge away as a battle strategy just in case he ever needs it… and maybe a small part of him wants to put it to the test, to see if his father would protect him as brutally as he’s protected the Robins before him
So some random night during patrol, he’s up against several henchmen, a few of them grab him from behind, trying to hold him down. Damian is fighting against them when one of them swings a cylinder of metal that Damian thinks might’ve been meant for the plumbing and…
The henchman breaks Damian’s nose, there’s blood dripping down his chin and staining his uniform
Now… it is most certainly not the first time he’s broken something, he’s more than used to the pain, in fact, he barely feels it. However, it gives him a chance to put his little theory to the test
And so Damian allows himself to sound like the ten year old that he is and in a whiny, teary voice, goes… “Babaaaaa!” (Bonus points if it’s the first or second time he’s called Bruce baba instead of father)
What Damian didn’t take into account though, is that Batman and Robin aren’t the only ones on patrol that night. They made a big bust. The biggest part of the operation was over but they were still fighting a few stragglers. The whole fucking family is here.
And they all hear his cry.
Damian doesn’t think he’s ever seen a fight end so quickly. The henchmen only have a split-second of surprise before vanishing, being tackled or shot or having knives buried on their shoulders by his siblings.
The one that actually broke Damian’s nose is being beaten up by Nightwing, Damian doesn’t think he’s ever seen Grayson so angry.
A shadow kneels in front of him, father. Baba. He’s checking Damian and Todd is right at his side, both speaking in hushed tones, checking his injuries and wiping the tears that usually came with a broken nose.
And now… Damian is used to his father and Grayson treating him like a child, trying to be as soft as they can with him. Even Cain does it to some extent.
But… having Drake wrap an arm around him, calling him baby when knocking out one of the criminals that had hurt him ‘that’s my fucking baby brother!’ and continue to hold him later into the night on the couch, having Brown willingly give up all the snacks she keeps in her utility belt and promise to take him to Batburger the following day for milkshakes because he was ‘a champ’. And Thomas wraps his favorite blanket around Damian while they’re fixing him up.
Todd decides to stay the night at the manor. Which he never does. They all decide to spend the night at the manor when Damian still sniffles on the Batmobile and they have breakfast all of them together. Which Damian isn’t sure has ever happened before and Cain gets Alfred to make pancakes with chocolate chips instead of blueberries.
They call him baby in hushed whispers but for once, it doesn’t bother him even though it really should
But most of all, Bruce refuses to let him go for a good five minutes after he first cries for him. Smoothing down his hair and whispering that it’ll be okay and just being soft in a way Damian has never seen before.
He sleeps between his Baba and Grayson and he knows that Todd and Drake and Cain check in on them at least twice in the night for some reason.
And he realizes it’s… it’s nice. Maybe this really could be an effective battle strategy to be employed again someday.
12K notes · View notes
ew-selfish-art · 8 months
Text
DpxDc AU: Tim as a child was never given a lot of information regarding the scribbling messy handwriting that appeared over night all over his arms- naturally he came to his own conclusions.
Tim Drake was home entirely alone at 9 years old and was about to go out for the night to test his brand new long exposure camera lens when he sees the writing on his arm. It’s not English, like he assumed it was at first, but it was using the alphabet to represent… Tim isn’t bad at math but this formula is complex for his little genius brain.
Looking at his camera, he decides he can spare a moment to look it up, solve it, and get back out into old town Gotham in time for Batman and Robin’s final patrol lap. He does just that, finding the problem to relate to some aerospace engineering and then quickly deduces what laws and theorems need to be applied. He finds a pen, writes down his findings in much neater handwriting onto his arm, and goes out. It’s barely a remarkable night at all. He gets a much more memorable photo of Robin roundhouse kicking a hench person.
Things just continued on that way. Tim would find some complex math, physics or chemistry prompt on his arm (surrounded by various question marks or notes or sad faces)- he’d answer it as best he could and move on with his life. Perhaps his parents were manifesting these pop quizzes? Perhaps his subconscious felt guilty about abandoning his studies for more Bat related pursuits? Tim really didn’t care to think much about it once he became Robin- there was too much on his plate and too many peoples problems for him to fix.
Notably, however, after the attack at the Tower, the pop quiz appeared and Tim wrote back that he wouldn’t be able to find an answer to this one. It was the only time Tim questioned the markings appearance and it was because the next thing that appeared was “Hope you feel better soon.”
… his parents wouldn’t include that on a pop quiz. Cursed then. Tim decided it must be a curse, whatever, he’d deal with the implications later in life.
Tim then has the worst year of his life, hes 15, no longer Robin and the questions from his curse are getting less math oriented and more… philosophical. A lot of mentions of death that, in hindsight helped him actually grieve, and a lot of theories about dark matter and souls. Tim answers back as best he can but he’s drained and his answers aren’t very good in his opinion. He gets minimal feedback.
It all comes to a point that he’s at a family dinner, Bruce is at the head of the table, Jason has promised just to stay for dessert, Damian hasn’t thrown a single insult his way and Steph was laughing at him- when a new theoretical model appears on his arm.
“You’re just as bad as Bruce, Timberly. Hiding a soulmate from all of us, how fucking typical.” Jason points out, while watching Tim scribble back some math with a question mark onto his arm.
“A what? No, this is just a curse. I get pop quizzes every now and then.” Tim bats away Steph who rapidly approaches and began to analyze his arm (the rest of the family isn’t far behind).
“Drake. Explain how you came to this conclusion.” Damian seems more curious than anything, if his lack of insults was anything to go off of.
“Since I was young I’ve had at least weekly math check ins, I never had a parent or anyone else around so I assumed my parents had me cursed to ensure I stayed on top of my studies. Sometimes it’s physics or chemistry, for a while there it was a ton of philosophy and behavioral psychology.” He shrugs his shoulders.
“Master Tim, I believe the lack of adults in your life has led you towards a false conclusion. That is most certainly a soulmate mark. The individual to whom you are responding is undoubtedly your other half.” Alfred attempts to calm the room before explaining to Tim. Tim isnt sure if he believes the butler, though Alfred only very rarely lied, so he grabs the pen once more. He writes his first question back: “Who am I to you?”
The room waits in anticipation and within moments a brand new line appears on Tim’s arm and he is vindicated: “We do math together???”
——
The reason Danny is failing English is because his built in homework helper sucks ass at metaphors and has apparently never read any classic literature. The tutor on his arm is great at puzzles and math tho.
Danny gets a reply back one night that he wasn’t expecting (Who am I to you?) and he mentions it to Jazz. Who goes insane that Danny didn’t even question it and just went with “meh, probably haunted” as his explanation for the phenomenon for all these years.
Apparently, if Jazz was right, he had a soulmate who was uh, super fucking smart. That was an overwhelming thought.
The next day Danny is in crisis mode and writes back “Wait, WHAT AM I TO YOU??? Can I help on your homework??”
Danny gets vindicated when the writing on his arm presents a shit ton of dates and information for an unsolved Gotham cold case. See, Haunted.
———
Eventually between Danny becoming the top candidate for astrophysics at Wayne Enterprises and Tim Drake being outed as having contributed tips to the GCPD that solved cold cases- they meet and realize just how dumb they’ve been.
3K notes · View notes
meteortrails · 1 year
Text
I really do think DC constantly struggles with like. what Batman and Robin mean as symbols, and then when they don’t struggle with that, they struggle with who Batman and Robin are as people. like identity is fundamentally a large part of any superhero story, and especially so for legacy superhero stories, so there will always and should always be some level of tension between those two things; how to do you live up to the legend you have built for yourself without becoming consumed by it? and it’s why basically no transition of Robin has actually gone well or even been well written in some cases. it’s the intersection of the symbol and the person, and to really sell it going well you have to have a deep understanding of both what the symbol of Robin means and the people it is passing between. for dick to pass Robin on, you need to understand the way it’s fundamentally tied to his relationships with all his parents, dead and alive; for Tim to pass Robin on, you need to understand the way he views the role as both separate from the legacy of Batman and primarily in service of Batman, and the way that he sees Robin as his tie to the only family he has left.
0 notes
letoasai · 2 months
Text
Will work for food ~part 3
Part 2 ~ Master Post
Tim was beyond irritated. He could have been on a date. Okay, he wasn’t sure if they were dates but they could have been. Damn it. He’d continued to summon Phantom weekly and they’d gone to lunch every time. Pizza. Barbecue. An amazing ramen place. They went to a music festival and visited all the food vendors. 
Things had been going smoothly. He’d been learning more about the Infinite Realm and about Danny himself and was having a great time despite his meddling siblings trying to butt in at every turn. Dick was a repeat offender but Duke, Cass and even Damien had all attempted to ambush him. It was lucky Danny thought it was hilarious and helped Tim avoid them. 
The last two weeks had been a disaster though. He’d had a four day mission with his own team, and had to deal with his friends poking fun at him while trying not to get shot at. Superboy had vastly exaggerated his interaction with Danny to the others! 
By the time he’d gotten back to Gotham, he’d had a small backlog of cases to get through. It was really cutting into both his CEO work and his freaking lunches with a really cute guy who just so happened to be an immortal king of a realm. 
Just when he thought he’d have a little time in the next day or two, Scarecrow was back on his bullshit with his fear toxins. Hadn’t they just done this recently? How had he gotten out of Arkham so fast? 
Tim was woozy, having taken a breath of the toxins and gotten a swift injury to his leg in the process. He’d say it was luck that he already had an antidote on him to fear toxins, but they all carried one with them at all times. He wasn’t freaking out but he could have done without the lightheadedness. It always briefly had him wondering if he’d gotten a concussion, but it was just a side effect. Usually. 
“You good, babybird?” He heard Nightwings voice through comms. He probably thought he was whispering and had no idea how loud he actually was because of the chaos of the night. 
“Never better.” He grumbled, trying to shake off a chill while limping. There was no one around to see at the moment so it was fine. “I’m headed your way.” 
“Good, Scarecrows around here somewhere. Slippery nut job.” Nightwing said. 
“Pay attention.” Batman’s voice ran through their comms. “He divided us on purpose. This isn’t his usual pattern.” 
There was grumbling across the line, everyone having figured that out already but B wouldn’t be B if he didn’t state the obvious for them some nights. 
Tim grappled from one street to the next, hearing sirens far enough in the distance that they couldn’t have been for this. When he landed safely, he pressed his palms to his masked eyes. The throbbing in his head was so annoying, but the jack hammering of his heart was…something he probably shouldn’t ignore but he was. 
“Not a concussion, Red.” He muttered to himself. “Just a stupid sore leg and Scarecrow’s stupid toxins filtering out.” There was always the option that it was a new strain and his antidote didn’t work as well but he wasn’t hallucinating his worst fears so maybe not. 
Trying to shake off his limp, Tim wandered across a nearly empty parking lot. There were a few abandoned cars, most of them missing their tires and on blocks. He kept an ear out, listening for anything that didn’t belong but it was Gotham, and even in the dead of night there were noises. Traffic, generators, air conditioners, nocturnal animals. There was always ambient noise, the key was ignoring the background hums and focusing on the shuffling goons. The problem he was having now however, was the faint ringing in his ears. 
“Red?” Nightwing's voice drifted across comms again. “I don’t see you yet. Something happen?” 
“No i’m…” Tim swallowed, suddenly parched and feeling overall…bad. He tilted his head back to check his surroundings and realized he’d gone the wrong way. How disoriented was he? “Okay, i might not be okay.” 
“Red Robin?” Batman’s voice was calm but urgent. “Do you need backup.” 
Tim almost stumbled but caught himself. “I feel like shit. I think there was something new in the toxins my antidote didn’t take care of.” 
“Oh, how wonderful. You figured it out so quickly.” 
Tim tensed, whirling around to face Scarecrow. Tim hated to think he’d been snuck up on but the rogue was sitting on one of the ripped apart cars in the lot. 
“I’m coming to you!” Nightwing said firmly. “On my way!” 
Tim waved Scarecrow’s words away cockily and only just noticed the way he trembled. “You’re losing your touch. Not a single, horrifying hallucination.” 
The rogue just chuckled. “Oh no, tonight’s a bit of a tester. Something a little different.” 
“That right?” Fuck. 
“Oh indeed, you don't mind being a guinea pig, do you? This particular batch didn’t have the hallucinogens, no. What it is doing is creeping through your system, forcing your body to activate all too real symptoms of fear.” 
“Seems a little corny for you.” Tim said, knowing the others were listening carefully. 
“And you're shaking.” Scarecrow’s huge grin grew broader. “What else, little bird? Over heating? Or are you freezing? Heart pounding? Knees weak? Feeling a fresh wave of tears building? Do let me know. It’s for science.” 
Tim tsked. He wasn’t about to cry but his throat was tight. It was almost like he was having trouble taking in a breath. 
“Somehow, a gas that makes people sick is so much less impressive than your normal routine.” Tim said, his trembling getting worse, but he was positive he was being tracked by at least some of the others. He just had to stall until Nightwing got there. “A couple of phantom pains the best you could come up with?” 
That wasn’t his best quip but Scarecrow took the bait anyway. “Oh no, it’s very real. Your body might not know why it’s so panicked, but it’s pulling out all the stops. Who knows, maybe your heart could just stop.” 
The problem with a lot of Gotham rogues, was the fact that they were actually intelligent people. The man likely could have gone on and on, but he jumped up and moved onto the offensive. He had a pitchfork tonight, and no one could say the man was original. 
“Now just stay still!” 
Tim dodged, the pitchfork surprisingly leaving quite the hole in the concrete. It should have been a simple dance and disarm kind of fight, but Tim’s shaking just got worse, and his stomach started to hurt, and his heart really was trying to beat out of his chest. It really was like he was terrified, the chills of his body making him sweat. 
“No ever actually stays still when someone’s running at them like a lunatic.” Tim said, but the words were almost hard to get out. He wasn’t choking but his throat was so clogged. 
The sass cost him though, and he was hit in his already wounded leg. It sent him rolling across the parking lot and Scarecrow just laughed. 
“Oh, what fun. It’s a shame though, i really miss the screaming of my patients visually seeing their worst nightmare, i’ll have to combine them.” 
Tim legs nearly gave out from under him when he tried to get up. Injury and the damn shaking leaving him unstable. He’d had to stay crouching, pulling out his staff to dig into the ground in front of him to hold himself up. 
“Regardless of my fears, you’re not one of them.” Tim wheezed, wondering if the hallucinogens were actually kicking in when a mist appeared. It was a frigid kind of cold that left ice crystals on all nearby metals. 
“Oh, we’ll see, little bird. I have plenty for your entire family. In fact, i’d love to see what a second dose would do to you.”
“Nearly there.” Batman said, but there was a hiss to his tone that said he knew it wasn’t going to be a timely arrival. 
“This isn’t good…” Tim whispered, watching Scarecrow pull out a small canister, and he was too wobbling to put more distance between them.
With a laugh, Scarecrow hurled it towards him. “Don’t be afraid to inhale!” 
Tim jerked back using his bo-staff as a crutch to give him some kind of momentum but he watched as the canister exploded midair and…something was strange. The cloud of chemicals had been clear for one second before disappearing. There was no time to worry about how quickly it could have been caught on a breeze when even Scarecrow himself looked confused. 
“So fear is your niche.” 
Tim shuddered, eyes going wide as his head jerked towards the sound of the voice. The gentle reverb of the words slicing through him. His solace was that the ire he heard wasn’t directed at him.
Danny was there. Well, King Phantom was there, having appeared out of thin air. It was the first time Tim had seen that form in a while but his friend was just as hauntingly ethereal as Tim remembered. 
He dropped the canister, and Tim had at least a partial answer. Whatever had gone wrong with the toxins had been Phantom’s doing. 
The king stared down at Scarecrow, but Tim couldn’t see his face from where he now sat. “I know a thing or two about fear.” Danny whispered. 
“Impossible.” Scarecrow spat, puffing up like a cat. None of the Gotham rogues liked their plans being disturbed and by a newcomer no less. “What did you do?! Did you inhale my toxins!? Absorb them!? Fool! You’ll be their next victim! You won’t be so relaxed for long! Even Red Robin’s a terrified mess!” 
“Red Robin! Report!” Batman’s voice was firm in his ear. 
“Relaxed?” Phantom mused, deceivingly calm. He’d stiffened, head turning just a little as if checking on Tim, but he never truly took his attention off the rogue. “No, not relaxed. Angry. As delicious as your parlor tricks were, i take offense to finding you hovering like a predator over my friend.” 
He rose into the air a few feet, and only then did Tim realize that he had been standing instead of floating, well, he was floating now. 
Scarecrow just tsked, unaware of the power in front of him. “Meta? Alien? It doesn’t matter. That combination of chemicals-”
“Was delicious.” Danny repeated. 
Tim scooted away, his leg throbbing. “Phantom.” He muttered, finally answering Batman through strangled breaths. “Phantom’s here.”
“Regardless, the offering was not enough to pacify me.” Danny muttered, the black crown over his head spinning. 
Scarecrow actually began laughing, it started with a chuckle but then it grew into something loud and boisterous. “You’re barely more than a child, are you sure you’re ready for this? The hero game is crowded here in Gotham, and you don’t look like any bird or bat i’ve ever seen.” 
Tim watched the way Danny’s hood swayed to the side as he tilted his head. “I am no bird, nor am i a bat.” 
“I’m sure you’ve impressed your little friends with your meta abilities, but it means nothing in a city like this. Though i see you have your talents. How are you unaffected by my toxins?” 
Ice erupted from the ground, enguling Scarecrow’s legs an inch at a time, creeping up his body without a hint of warning. “You misunderstand.” Danny whispered. “I am not here for a conversation. I’m here for my friend, and to teach you that dabbling in fear is childsplay to a being like myself.” 
Tim couldn’t see… Danny was facing away from him but his galaxy cloak billowed out around him without even the slightest breeze. There were shadows…? Something? Tim couldn’t see though he tried. What he could see was Scarecrow, and even with his face covered, his body language betrayed his growing horror. 
“You can not frighten the dead.” Danny said, but in a voice that was decidedly not his own. 
Scarecrow started screaming, a desperate sound that had him thrashing in place, the ice now well around his chest. Tim didn’t know what the rogue was seeing but if scaring someone to death was really a thing… 
“Phantom.” Tim tried to raise his voice and had to close his eyes to shove away the sudden lightheadedness. He was shivering. “W..we good…?” 
Whatever was going on paused, and Danny seemed to reign himself in. The strange movement of his cloak stopped and Tim briefly made a mental note to ask Danny what kind of other forms he might have. 
Danny turned to him, looking normal, though he hadn’t seen his white hair in a while. “I forget sometimes…” He commented, voice even softer than usual. “The living are so fragile.” 
Scarecrow was still screaming, but his head was lulling back and he looked seconds away from passing out. He was held in place by the ice, and obviously wasn’t going anywhere. 
“Yeah, we’re like that.” Tim muttered, shoulders slumping now that the danger was taken care of, it didn’t stop the way his body twitched. His stomach hurt so bad. 
Danny landed by his side silently, a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?” 
“Yeah. Leg’s a little messed up but it’ll heal. The… the toxins in my system are going to have to run their course, unless i can work out how to s..somehow come up with a new antidote before then. St..stupid…” 
Danny cocked his head to the side, wispy white hairs floating around his face. It was unfair how attractive he was. “Want me to eat it?” 
Tim heard a confused “Wut?” from his comm. Spoiler summing up that comment nicely. 
“I can absorb emotion. Because it can sustain us. I just think of it as a different way to eat.” Danny said. Tim breathed a sigh of relief that that half ghost had been around him long enough to know that he liked explanations when he didn’t understand something. 
“That’s w..why the fear toxins didn’t affect you.” 
“Mhmm.” Danny hummed. “Gotta get that recipe though. That was tasty. Frighty would love it. 
Tim sighed, feeling another wave of nausea and he…was pretty sure he was seeing colors he shouldn’t be. “You always leave m…me with more questions than answers. My s..symptoms aren’t emotional. Chem..chemically induced.” And fuck this was so embarrassing in front of the King of the Infinite Realm. 
Danny hummed, and if Tim wasn’t mistaken, he sounded amused. He leaned closer, fingers touching Tim’s face and all at once, he started to feel better. His shaking stopped almost immediately and he was left to assume that despite the chemicals he’d inhaled, Danny was still able to take them from him. Honestly, scientifically it made no sense whatsoever. 
At least his stomach didn’t hurt anymore. 
“What do i owe you for this one?” Tim asked with a weary smile. Other than a sore leg, the other symptoms seemed to disappear. 
“I got two separate fear meals. I’m good.” Danny chuckled, helping Tim to his feet only seconds before Batman and Nightwing arrived. 
Nightwing made a beeline for Tim, grabbing him in the tightest hug while Batman was instead looking Scarecrow over who had, in fact, passed out at some point. 
“Wing, watch it! Watch it! The leg!” 
“I’m so glad you’re okay!” Nightwing clung anyway. He then held a hand out to Danny. “Thank you so so much, your Majesty! Your timing is to die for!” 
Tim knew he was in trouble when Danny took Nightwings hand to shake, and his eyes lit up. “Wing…” Tim said in a warning tone that went unheard. 
“No big deal. Visiting Red Robin really lifts my spirits.” Danny said with a small grin, fangs a little larger than in his living form. 
Nightwing tipped his head back and laughed. “Yes!” 
“No…” Tim groaned, shoving away from his brother. 
“In all seriousness, i’m glad i came.” Danny said. “I wasn’t sure if you were trying to summon me or not so i thought i’d poke my head in and see.” 
“I…didn’t realize i did?” Tim muttered, checking his utility belt. “I do have the spell circle but…” 
Danny shrugged “Well you said ‘Phantom’ at some point. I thought it sounded a little different but well…i didn’t think it would hurt to double check. I’m glad i was able to help.” 
“We appreciate it, your Majesty.” Batman commented in a gruff tone. He very much did not appreciate it but couldn’t be mad about someone saving Tim when he wouldn’t have gotten there in time.“What exactly did you do? This ice is-” 
“Oh, right.” Phantom waved his hand flippantly and the ice disappeared. Scarecrow dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes. “He’ll probably suffer nightmares for the next week but he’ll shake it off.” 
“I have… so many questions…” Tim repeated. 
Danny just looked at him fondly. “You always do.” 
“I’ll take him in.” Batman said. “Red Robin, return for medical treatment.” 
“I’m fine, B.” Tim said, but he was getting a look. “Grab whatever he has on him so we can make new antidotes.” 
Batman grunted, and it was possibly lucky that the rogue was already knocked out. 
“Hey, hey, King Phantom-” Nightwing began. 
“Just Phantom is fine.” 
Nightwing was positively giddy. “What do you say to four a.m. waffles? I know you ate the fear or whatever but you deserve a proper thank you meal.” 
There was something so boyishly charming about the way Danny smiled. His constellation freckles even seemed to twinkle. “As long as they don’t bite back. I’d like that.” 
“Concerning.” Tim hummed, testing his weight on his leg. It wasn’t broken but he wouldn’t be grappling anywhere else tonight.
“Great!” Nightwing said, tapping his own comm. “Spoiler will meet us there!” 
Danny glanced at Tim. “Do uh.. You go…” He gestured to them. “Dressed like this?” 
“All the time.” 
“Okay then.” Danny said, and the only adjustment he made was to reach up above him and grab his crown. It disappeared from view. 
“So many questions.” Tim heaved a sigh. “I guess breakfast would be nice. We haven’t done breakfast yet.” 
Danny nodded once. “At least i feel like i earned it this time. You’ve just been treating me so much lately.” He sounded as close to shy as Tim had ever heard and it was killing him. 
Ugh, now he was doing the death puns… 
“You don’t have to earn your food with us.” Tim said softly. 
“RR is right, you know?” Nightwing beamed. “You should totally get him to bring you home one night, Phantom. Best home cooking you’ve ever had.” 
Danny hummed, “It’s a low bar, but that could be…nice.” 
“We’ll discuss it over waffles!” Nightwing just…decided. 
Tim shook his head, not sure how he felt about these two getting along but Danny was smiling and Tim was a sucker for those smiles. 
“Alright.” Tim said, stifling a yawn. “My leg is stiff so one of you is gonna have to help me get there, but let’s go eat.” 
Danny’s green eyes just glowed with mirth. “No problem.”
1K notes · View notes
bluerosefox · 1 month
Text
Fenton Coded
Tim... Tim just stared.
He...
Huh.
He had once entertained the idea that he wasn't really a Drake, a very long time ago when he overheard his mom and dad arguing and some words were said in the heat of the moment, but to be honest Tim always thought the obvious culprit of anyone being his dad would most likely be Bruce (Bruce even admitted he had a small fling with his mother but that was two years before her marriage)
But before little Tim's curiosity could really take hold on the idea, he had saw on the news Robin performing a Grayson flip and the hint of Tim not being a Drake left his mind. Robin was Dick Grayson! And if he was Robin that had to mean Bruce Wayne was Batman!
Then well... his stalking of the Bats started and the rest became history.
But now, as Tim was staring at his own DNA test, something he never bothered to do until that damned Demon brat wanted to make sure he was ONLY blood son of Bruce (and doing a DNA test something even Bruce never thought of doing due to well… how he was towards Tim during his first months as Robin)
He well…
He kinda needs to find out who this Daniel Jackson Fenton is.
(Tim finds out he isn’t a Drake, but also not a Wayne (because Damian wanted to make sure he was only blood son) but is instead a Fenton)
1K notes · View notes
minty364 · 4 months
Text
DPXDC Prompt#61 Part 3
Danny was kind of in awe at the Batcave. Of course he hadn’t seen it, he never met his father either and really wasn’t looking forward to the conversations he was about to have with everyone here.
He looked around while Batman watched until he cleared his throat and motioned for Danny to follow him. They eventually made their way into a conference room where Red Robin was already sitting typing something away on his laptop. He smiled and stopped what he was doing when he noticed Batman and Danny walk into the room. 
“You do look just like Damian! Well I guess you are Damian in your universe, you said you came from an alternate world right?” Red Robin started as Batman and Danny took their seats at the table. 
Danny took a deep breath before he started talking, “Yeah, but I don’t go by Damian anymore.”
Batman and Red Robin seemed surprised at this, “Wait really?” Red Robin asked, looking genuinely surprised, “Your counterpart here really prides himself on being Bruce’s blood son.”
Danny remembered being told how great Father was by Mother but the fear of being found alive after he fled made it impossible for him to find out. He knew he should probably get back to his own dimension but the thought of getting to know Father even a little bit and even from another universe made him rethink getting back as soon as possible. 
“I… fled the League, I went into hiding, so I changed my name. I’m sorry but we’re strangers in my world.” Danny finally said after gathering his thoughts. He waited a moment but when no one said anything he continued, “You can call me Danny, I live in a small town called Amity Park in my world.”
“What else can you tell us about your world? If we can figure out what got you here we can figure out how to get you back,” Red Robin asked.
Danny thought about how much he should say after a moment. He could tell his counterpart here did trust his Father, he could tell from his body language from their brief encounter. He decided after a moment it would probably be fine to reveal himself here, if the him from this world trusted them then he would too. 
“This isn’t easy to tell you but I’m not getting back the way I came. The portal that got me here was one way.” Danny started, “There are natural portals that kind of pop in and out of all worlds that lead back to the ghost zone or Infinite Realms as I've heard it called by some of the ghosts.” 
He let them soak in the information before continuing, “The folks that adopted me built a portal to this realm and while I was in a fight I got thrown through a natural portal and ended up here”
Red Robin seemed to raise his eyebrow at him, “Ghosts?” he asked skeptically. 
Danny sighed again, “Yes, I don’t have an easy way to get back is what I’m trying to say”
Batman thought about things for a moment before speaking, “You're welcome to stay here until we can get you back home, I have a colleague through the Justice League that would know a thing or two about the supernatural. We can talk about things in the morning for now let's get some rest. It sounds like this will be a long term thing, so I will have Alfred take you in the morning to get some clothes and basic needs.”
Batman stood up and left the room probably to change out of the batsuit. A few seconds passed and then a knock on the door was heard and an elderly man wearing a suit walked in.
“Master Tim, Master Damian, Isn’t it time you both got ready for bed?” He asked.
“Oh right, Alfred, meet Danny, he’s Damian from an alternate world.” Red Robin said before standing up, “I’m headed out to change out as well. Danny, Alfred can show you to the room you’ll be staying in while you’re here.”
Danny turned to Alfred, “If you’ll follow me, Master Danny”
He followed the friendly butler out of the room and up some stairs before they got to the main floor. They turned down a few different hallways, honestly Danny would be more worried about getting lost if he didn’t have years of training navigating complex paths. 
When they finally got to Danny’s room they parted ways and Danny headed in.
It was a rather large room, larger than any room in the Fenton house that was for sure. Danny often forgot how rich his blood family was and now that he was here he was in awe of how different it was to his own life. The room even had its own attached bath. Danny took a warm shower before changing into some Pajamas that were left out for him. 
Eventually he drifted off to sleep. He’d explore the mansion and Gotham tomorrow.
Master Post:
Last:
Next:
500 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Image description: A black and white illustration, designed to look like a book cover. On a decorative ribbon, the title at the top reads “External Memory”. A scroll work border of leaves and flowers divides the illustration into three rounded panels. The largest panel is in the center and shows a caravan surrounded by greenery, puddles and potted plants. The two smaller panels beneath it show a cartoon cat and mouse respectively, facing each other. At the bottom is another decorative ribbon with the text “a diary comic by My Murphy”. After the cover follows an 8 page comic. The style is cartoonish and the colours are soft pastels. Page one: An orange cat waves and says “Hello! I’m My.” The cat holds up a white mouse and says “This is Mouse, my girlfriend.” Caption: My name is actually My, but Mouse is a nickname for comic and privacy purposes. Caption: When I started this project, me and Mouse lived on a little island off the Swedish coast. The panel shows a stylised, tiny island with a lighthouse, spruce and birch trees, leaning houses and a little dock with a row boat tied to it. The cat and mouse are standing on the cliffs and a swan floats on the water in the foreground. Page two: Caption: Now we’ve moved to Ireland where we live in a caravan in the middle of nowhere. A small caravan, surrounded by greenery, overgrown trees, rocks, puddles and potted plants. The caravan has two windows and the cat and the mouse are looking out of one window each. Caption: We lived on the island to be close to my family. A ribbon with writing on it separates and labels four characters: “mom”, an ermine, “dad”, a wolverine, “brother”, a marmot and “step mom”, a squirrel. The ribbon has been torn in between “mom” and “dad”. Caption: and we moved to Ireland to be close to Mouse’s family. Three characters are shown, each with their own ribbon label. “mother-in-law”, a deer, “sister-in-law”, a jack russell terrier and “brother-in-law”, a hedgehog. Page three: Caption: Me and the mouse are currently in our thirties. The cat lounges on an antique fainting couch and the mouse sleeps on a cushion on the floor. On the floor is an open bag of “let’s” crisps and a laptop. Caption: We’re both pretty decrepit in various ways, so for this comic I draw couches and beds as often as I draw people. Caption: Disability isn’t especially interesting to me, but if a fish made an autobiographical comic… A fish under water paints a four panel comic with a brush held in its mouth. The panels the fish has painted show bubbles, waves and splashing water. Caption: …it’d probably be partly about water, whether the fish cared about water or not. Page four: Caption: My memory has always been pretty crappy. If a friend asks me: “do you remember when...” The question is shown asked by a red robin Caption: I usually have to answer: “no, I don’t.” The panel shows the cat giving this answer while looking away and blushing. Caption: There are many things in my life I’d like to remember. Mom the ermine watches as the cat opens a Christmas gift in front of a Christmas tree. The cat is much smaller than usual, its tail is bushy with excitement and it holds up a big book, “Mort”, with a skull on the cover. Caption: This comic is my EXTERNAL MEMORY so I can capture some of those moments… The cat admires a butterfly hovering above its outstretched paw Caption: …great or small. Page five: Caption: I try to make one strip per day, give or take. Pages with dates written on them blow off of a daily wall calendar by a strong breeze. As they turn over, comic pages are revealed to be drawn on the back. One comic shows the mouse with long fangs, biting the face of the cat and then hissing behind a bat wing. One comic is a pastiche of Tim Buckley’s “Loss” comic and one features a portrait of Frasier Crane and the Seattle skyline. Caption: and on the days when nothing interesting happens A close up shows the cat’s paw drawing a comic panel. In this panel a smaller, rounder version of the cat runs happily in the sunshine carrying a backpack. Caption: I reach back and draw something from my past. Caption: If you read this comic and wonder: A coyote looks at the comic on its phone, strokes its chin suspiciously and asks “did that really happen?” Caption: the answer is always yes. Caption: If you read this comic and wonder: A monkey reads the comic in zine form and think “did they really say that?” Caption: the answer is usually yes. Page six: Caption: When a specific phrase is the point of the strip, it’s recorded verbatim. The mouse says “you’re marching to the beat of the potato drum.” Caption: is a direct quote. Caption: When the point is something else, I sometimes take small liberties to make the memory fit well inside four panels. The cat sits at its drawing table, holding a pair of scissors in one hand and a paper with two comic panels in the other. Caption: Usually that means I make myself or the mouse play the part of the straight man because it will improve a joke. The cat and the mouse, dressed as clowns, stand in a circus tent. The cat pulls the clown nose from the mouse’s face and holds up a pie, ready to strike. Caption: In reality, neither of us is much of a straight man, but all art demands some sacrifices. Caption: In every way that matters, this comic always tells the truth. The cat looks up at a large, glowing, winged sphinx statue version of itself. The statue and framing is a reference to the all knowing Southern Oracle from the film adaptation of “The Neverending Story”. Caption: I am doing this to aid my memory after all, so it wouldn’t be very helpful to make my life seem more funny, interesting or relatable than it really is. The cat draws a comic while watching paint dry on the wall. Caption: That would be a pretty cruel joke to play on my future, more confused self. The cat scratches its head at a drawing of themselves as the winner of a beauty contest, wearing a sash and crown, waving to the crowd and holding flowers. Caption: She’ll probably have enough to contend with… The cat looks suspiciously at its own reflection in the mirror, not recognising it. The drawing is a pastiche of a panel from the webcomic “Gunshow” by KC Green. Caption: Maybe some of my comics will be funny or interesting or relatable to you anyway. That would make me very happy. The cat smiles and presses its paws to its face in joy, seeing that a bear and a horse are reading the comic together and laughing. Cartoon hearts float over the cat. Caption: Some of the comics probably won’t do much for anybody but me, but that’s okay too. The cat presses a page of the comic to its chest, looking contented and protective. In the last panel, the cat and the mouse are floating on air with a blue sky and white clouds behind them. The cat is smiling and twirling around, holding a paint brush out like a wand. From the brush flows paint that swirls around the two figures and making shapes of green leaves and orange and yellow flowers. On two looping blue ribbons appear the last captions: This is a record of my silly little life. Good or bad, I’m glad I get to share it. End ID.
Here’s a little introduction to External Memory! It was fun to make a proper neat and full colour comic - it’s been a while ^^
(If you like this project, please reblog this post! You can also subscribe to my patreon where I post one comic every day ^^)
2K notes · View notes
dickheadcanons · 3 months
Text
The potential of a decade(s) long DickBatman and DamianRobin era literally haunts me at night.
Don’t get me wrong, one of the most interesting things about the Robins imo is how baked into each other they are. I know it’s a joke that Bruce will just adopt any random orphan in reach, but the truth is, especially for the boys, their entrance into the Batman world is predicated on the one before; Jason is only taken in because Bruce misses Dick, Tim only because Jason dies. (Steph becoming Robin is even more of a story choice, and not one I particularly like, but a narrative nonetheless.) Their narrative is tight in a way that “replaced sidekicks” aren’t usually. Somehow, they made a pure narrative choice (Dick needs to move on, readers wanted to see a dead Robin) into a very compelling character choice for Bruce too.
But Damian takes us back to the heart and soul of the dynamic duo. A young boy with a dead family, and a young man with a mission that’s too big for him.
Despite the differences, Dick is working to help Damian in the same way that Bruce worked to help him. And Damian, a wildly different person than Dick, still has really wonderful moments of giving Dick exactly the advice he needs to hear. Their partnership isn’t quite the same as Bruce and Dick’s (Dick and Damian are honestly much less damaged, comparably), but it’s closer than the others imo.
Damian and Dick purposefully take the original duo and flip it directly on its head. The exact opposite inside the same frame. They really felt like a new era. The perfect circle. If only we got a little more time before the close.
330 notes · View notes
phoenixkaptain · 9 months
Text
My favourite part of Dick Grayson as a character is that he is never afraid of Bruce.
Like, Jason has his fear of disappointing him, Tim is a bit intimidated and has his hero worship, Damian fears that Bruce’ll kick him out the way he thinks Talia did, but Dick?
Dick is so unconcerned about Bruce at every possible moment. Even the earliest comics had Dick calling Bruce lame to his face. Dick works with Bruce and his partner for years and they understand each other on a deep level and Dick multiple times calls Bruce a fucking square.
Dick does not tell Bruce anything. He does not write home. If Bruce wasn’t in the room with him when Dick got called to go somewhere, I’m pretty sure Dick would not have informed Bruce that he was even leaving, let alone where he was going. The Teen Titans joined the Peace Corps, they were in Washington for at least a few days being trained, and Bruce finds out that Robin joined the Peace Corps from a newspaper. Dick does not tell him anything.
Dick and Bruce have such a fascinating relationship to me because Dick really doesn’t treat Bruce as his dad so much as he treats him like a particularly obnoxious older brother. Bruce treats Dick like his little baby bird who he cares about and doesn’t want to get hurt, but Dick is over there like “ugh, Bruce is so overdramatic” while he nearly drowns for the fifth time.
In early Teen Titans, there’s no question that Robin is physically the weakest member. Aqualad and Wonder Girl both have super strength, Kid Flash’s speed means that he doesn’t need super strength, but Robin is by far the easiest to capture. He gets caught very consistently through the early issues, albeit people can only catch him if they take him off guard, but it’s a lot easier to catch him off guard in early comics. Robin is the brains of the group, the others look to him for direction and depend on him to make plans that will work and panic when Robin gets nabbed because what will they do without Robin??
Robin gets captured a lot in early Batman comics too. Robin is the ultimate damsel, but he’s never really in very much distress? Like, Bruce and the Teen Titans are distressed, but Robin just looks maybe a bit surprised and bored. Robin never seems to take his own mortality into account when he does things, meanwhile literally everyone else does.
Dick only ever really gets annoyed with Bruce. He bever gets mad at his teammates, even when they question his ability. For the most part, Dick doesn’t even respond when they underestimate him to his face. I have no idea what’s going on in Dick’s head, but he isn’t a part of Aqualad and Kid Flash finding each other and him annoying in their first team ups and he never gets upset when they don’t believe in him.
Then, on the other hand, Bruce calls the music Dick is listening to noise, and Dick immediately is annoyed. Dick and Bruce having a turbulent relationship is more apparent later on in the comics, but Bruce is truly the only one in all the galaxies who gets under Dick’s skin as much as he does.
And it’s funny because fandom likes to paint Dick as bitter that Bruce didn’t adopt him, while I think Dick would have blown his top if Bruce even tried to adopt him. Dick had parents, he never views Bruce as a parental figure. Don’t get me wrong, Dick loves Bruce. Bruce does so much for Dick and Bruce is protective of him and Bruce is open about his affection, but Dick just doesn’t view him as his father.
I really think Dick views Bruce as more like a guard dog than a father. He talks so casually to Bruce, but he’s more formal to other adults. He complains about Bruce not trusting him, but doesn’t care when his teammates don’t trust him either. He views the rich billionaire vigilante who can take down a god in a fight as fucking lame.
Their relationship is amazing. They get along great. They’re a perfect duo, they work in tandem, they’re absolutely unstoppable together. If Bruce talks too much Dick will roll his eyes. They trust each other with their life. Dick is never telling Bruce anything. Bruce says “I guess I can spare Robin for a minute” and Dick is like “I would be perfectly content to never return home for the rest of my days.”
Of all the Robins, Dick is absolutely the one who respects Bruce the least. He loves the guy, but he just canNOT take him seriously.
(Do you think it was the time Bruce sent a box of bats to someone? Or the times Bruce gets captured and has to be rescued by his damsel side-kick? Or the way Bruce is like an overprotective mother, coming this close to reminding Robin to wash behind his ears? Or the way Bruce lets Robin say whatever he wants and never gets upset or offended or even hurt?
Or, maybe, Batman tripped on his cape once, and Dick just can never forget.)
1K notes · View notes
ghost-bxrd · 20 days
Text
Tim isn’t sure what’s going to happen now… but he knows that something has to.
Something needs to change.
Robin… Robin didn’t help.
Tim didn’t- he thought it would. Help Dick. See- Jason, maybe. Just for a moment. Long enough for Dick to stop hugging Jason’s hoodie to his chest and look at him. Any of them. He thought it would- that there would at least be more of Dick inside that shell again. Just for a moment.
But now Tim is nursing five long scratches down the back of his neck where Dick had tried clawing the suit off of him.
— sneak peek for Owl Song pt 12 :)
148 notes · View notes
zahri-melitor · 3 months
Text
The Circus
Jack suggesting they take Tim to the circus when it came to town was a big ask. Performances usually took two hours or more. Even with an interval, they’d barely managed to take Tim to the movies yet without Janet having to take him out in the middle. And this was an environment where if she took him out it would still be overstimulating, with the carnival all around them.
Jack was an optimist. And not the one who’d be dealing with a screaming Tim, Janet thought grumpily to herself. But Jack was also all for it, telling her stories of his childhood memories seeing clowns and jugglers and lions roaring. And it was something they could do as a family.
Luckily, there was a tv special about circuses on that night, including footage of a number of acts. Janet set it up to record on a tape, so she could talk Tim through the process before they went.
*
Tim had been a warm lump buried into her side on the couch, fascinated by the recording. She’d skipped through the video, just stopping at each of the performances.
“We’re going to go to the circus, Tim, and see acts like these. Do you see the clown juggling? We might see that. Or here’s some trapeze artists, swinging like you do on a swing. Look at their tricks!”
“They go upside down!” Tim seemed entranced.
“Isn’t that clever of them?” And here’s an elephant. Look how big the elephant is!”
“Wooaaah.”
*
Janet’s preparation had worked. Tim seemed fascinated by the sights and sounds and smells of the circus, and didn’t hide behind her when they took him over to meet some of the performers before the show, to make everything feel easier to relate to. One of the acrobats had crouched down to Tim’s height and shook his hand, saying he’d look for Tim in the crowd, while Tim giggled.
“I told you this was a good idea, Jan,” said Jack, looking at Tim getting himself sticky on cotton candy. “It’s so much easier to be able to take Tim with us when we go out.”
“You were right. I was worrying too much,” conceded Janet, as she watched Tim try to feed some of the cotton candy to an elephant. “And it is nice to go places as a family.”
Things continued going really well…right up until the moment they didn’t.
As Janet carried a wailing child out of the tent, through the screams and the hysterics all around them, his snotty nose mushed against her shoulder, soaking through the fabric, she gritted her teeth. At least Tim was so small he wouldn’t remember. Or understand.
*
The night terrors had her up and resettling Tim down for weeks. It was the worst case of sleep regression she’d had to deal with since Tim was 6 months old. The parenting books had said this would stop happening now he was almost three. But eventually, as every other time, it passed, and Tim wasn’t climbing into their bed and clinging for comfort every night, and he (and Janet!) were able to return to sleeping through the night.
*
Later, when Janet thought about it at all, the idea that seeing a clown would be a happy bonding experience between parent and child made her shudder.
*
They were out of VCR tapes and going out for the evening, and she wanted to record Dallas. Janet sighed, and went to look at the pile of recordings Tim hoarded. Surely there was something in here that he’d outgrown and wouldn’t miss. If she asked him, it would become a whole drama as he insisted that every single tape was special and he couldn’t possibly give it up, but there had to be an old recording of Sesame Street buried at the bottom or so.
Crocky. Crocky. (Tim was still mildly obsessed with Crocky). A recording of Robin Hood. The Jungle Book. Mr Wizard. He-Man. Another Crocky… she stopped and squinted at the next tape. The spine label read ‘circus’ in her own neat handwriting, but Janet couldn’t recall any TV shows or movies that matched that, and she was sure she’d never seen Tim watching anything about a circus.
Janet inserted the tape into the VCR. It started halfway through, in the middle of an interview with some circus performers sitting to one side of a stage. The performers were wearing red and green leotards.
It clearly wasn’t anything that Tim would watch, and Janet wondered how on earth it had gotten mixed up in the pile of Tim’s videos.
He wouldn’t miss this one.
*
“Mom?”
Tim came up to her in the kitchen, as she was putting away some dishes. “Yes, sweetheart?” He looked distressed.
“Did you take one of my tapes? Only Dad said he didn’t and it’s missing…”
“Oh, Tim, I’m sorry. We were out of tapes and I’ve never seen you watch that one. Was it special to you?” It was important to acknowledge your child’s emotions, Janet repeated to herself, even if said child had never shown any attachment to the object right up until 30 seconds ago.
Tim shifted from foot to foot, looking uncomfortable. “It’s just that that one was my tape. And now I can’t get it back.” His eyes started to fill with tears. Oh no. “You should have asked, Mom.”
“I am sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?”
Tim stared at the floor, digging the edge of one shoe into a line of tile grout. “No. They won’t show that program again.” He sounded downcast. “If you’d asked I could have told you which tape was okay!”
“I’ll do that next time,” Janet promised. Tantrum seemed averted. Please.
*
Later that evening, Tim was sitting on the floor of the living room, playing with trucks, when Jack flipped over to the History Channel.
“Are you sure you want to watch ancient aliens again, dear?” Janet asked Jack. The historical inaccuracies grated at her, given her archaeological training.
“It’s hilarious, Jan. The people writing these shows have clearly never been to a dig in their life.”
Tonight however the next show wasn’t ancient aliens or Atlanteans or Bigfoot trackers; it was someone tracking their local cryptids and showing blurry video footage of various criminals and the Bat-Man. Jack was obsessed with this sort of thing, and was laughing at the grainy footage.
Janet saw Tim look up from his trucks for a moment and seem caught, eyes wide, the light from the television screen playing across his face, as he watched fast-moving costumes spin and flip across the screen.
206 notes · View notes
daemonmage · 3 months
Text
A Stupid Batfam AU
Jason’s and Bruce’s rocky relationship is actually a pr move to make sure the rest of the batfam doesn’t get attacked by reporters and gcpd.
Essentially Red Hood, while liked by the Crime Alley citizens and other citizens as well, has a pretty bad reputation with a lot of the rest of the city. The GCPD hate him for his overt violence and the head incident. The Media hates him cause he’s what they all feared Batman would become and are constantly creating news stories on him. A lot of the other citizens are just scared of him cause sometimes his temper gets out of control. It’s not the best reputation.
Bruce and Jason have long since talked and settled their differences. Well, it’s more of a “I don’t approve of your methods but I will acknowledge you as a person who wants to help, but I will still dislike the guns. Also I missed you” from Bruce and “I’m not happy with a lot of your decisions but I also understand why you came to those decisions. I’m still mad but I now know that you missed me and I missed you too” from Jason. They’re better than they were originally and honestly that’s all they could hope for. Jason visits the manor more and is having fun being brothers to Dick and Tim.
Here’s the thing though… his reputation as Red Hood may have accidentally spread to the other Bats. A few team ups here and there (and the red bat on his chest) have made everyone assume that Batman is now working with Red Hood, a known crime lord. The media and GCPD were on them like flies on shit. Jim tries to calm down the gcpd with mixed results, but he can’t stop the media from blowing this out of proportion. It’s like the news channels from Dark Knight Returns, but worse.
Jason, who just got his family back, is fucking pissed. Jason is also dramatic as hell. Bruce was willing to just deal with this, but Tim is too new at this to be caught in the crossfire. Bruce was just gonna bench him out of fear until things calm down (he’s dealt with this before) but Jason brings up his plan to Bruce. Bruce isn’t as dramatic as Jason, however he is still absolutely dramatic. He agrees. So begins an epic fight between two ideals that ends two vigilantes at each other’s throats constantly.
Red Hood and Batman fight any time they are together, Red Hood is arrested by Batman on multiple occasions, and Red Hood always escapes leaving terrifying threats spray painted where the bat can see. (Jason and Bruce give each others shit for the pot shots they take and Bruce compliments Jason’s form when he gets a good hit in, Bruce gives Jason a heads up to the easier ways to get out of a police car and Jason ignores him going for the most dramatic ways, Bruce complains that the code Jason uses for his threats are obvious and he can just ask Alfred himself for cookies, why does Bruce have to be the middle man.)
The super hero community doesn’t really know this (cause they can be pretty bad actors at times, says Bruce) tis can cause problems. Superman and Green Arrow capturing Red Hood. Batman had to pull the “he’s Gotham’s problem give him to me,” which led to a hour of arguing to get Jason back. Tim’s friend have Red Hood on their hit list for what Hood did to Robin (Tim is over it but he does use this as a way to get back at his brother when he pisses him off) and Red Hood has to be on the Villain List to sell the act, so every hero ever knows the Red Hood is a villain. This leads to chaos.
There are still rough moments where Bruce and Jason still fight, but it’s better. Jason gets to hang out and play games with Tim. He plans overly dramatic fights with Dick (with full plot cause these two are so extra.) He helps Alfred in the kitchen again talking about books they’ve both read. He and Bruce talk again, they talk about their fears and what they’ve missed. It’s better, and that’s all that really matters.
162 notes · View notes
comphetkoncass · 8 months
Text
little fic about tim's love language being contingency plans
////
The thing is, Tim has a way of attacking Kon’s problems like a puzzle. Like a riddle, waiting to be solved. 
Tim’s plans also don’t involve much feeling, usually, even if the issue is purely an emotional one. While Tim is decent at listening and empathizing, at a certain point he always gets his Robin face on. A signal that, while he’s still certainly listening, there’s a chemical reaction in his brain, completely out of his control, that activates his detective skills. His problem-solving skills. 
It has taken Kon a combined two lifetimes, four years, five collective identities, and two–maybe three?–timelines, but Kon has finally gotten Tim to at least ask before starting to strategize. But lately, Tim has undergone some personal growth, and Kon is starting to wonder if, perhaps, he has learned to not even ask. To instead, politely wait for a signal – a sign, an invitation, even– that said advice is actually wanted. 
Kon would like to take the credit for training him, he really would. But he has a feeling he’s only one of many factors. 
Today, Kon is sitting face-down on Tim’s bed. Krypto sits on top of Kon’s back, the world’s most powerful emotional support dog pinning him in place. Preventing him, more like, from leaving before he's gotten all his complicated, messy, unwanted feelings out. Also preventing him from looking up at his boyfriend before Kon is done feelings-dumping, because otherwise Kon just won't finish talking, and it will go unsaid.
So Kon can’t see it; he can't see the detective face for himself. Can’t verify, for sure, absolutely, 100%, that TIm’s detective face is on. 
But he knows it’s there. 
He’s just spent half an hour talking about his latest identity crisis. Of course Tim’s detective face is on. It’s probably been on since minute two. 
However, Tim is also running his fingers through Kon’s hair, and making the occasional appropriate comment, always generous and rational and kind, always active listening, and– listen, Kon isn’t immune to the soft victim support voice. He’s definitely not immune to the Robin leader voice, but the softer, empathetic, gentle one Tim uses with people who need help? And when it bleeds in so subtly into his regular speaking voice that it’s not immediately obvious that’s where he pulling it from? 
Incredible. Show-stopping. Kon could listen to it all day, if he wasn’t the one monopolizing the conversation by info-dumping all his problems. 
Finally though, he finishes the garbled, soft, self-deprecating speech about how he’ll never be completely free of Lex’s braingook (yes, that is the scientific name for it, thank-you-very-much) and how that means he’s always going to have a chip on his shoulder until Lex dies and even then Kon’s going to have to worry about some secret chip in his brain that transfers Lex’s consciousness to his or what-the-fuck-ever. 
He can hear the comment Tim wants to make. The unspoken, soft little, 'You know, we could probably test you for that... A chip would definitely show up on an MRI...'
Instead, Tim only pauses the briefest, softest moment. “...That must be really stressful for you, worrying about that.” 
Kon looks up, just a little. Sees Tim’s best poker face. 
Then sighs, and bids the victim comfort voice goodbye. “Okay, I give in,” he says, and moves to cross his arms in Tim’s lap instead. Krypto lets out an annoyed little huff at being jostled from Kon's back, but he soon hops off Kon’s back and moves to lay at his side instead. Kon rubs him behind the ears, Krypto butts his head against his hand, and all is well again. “C’mon, out with it.”
“Hm? Out with what?” Tim asks, still in the same plaintive tone. “What do you mean?” 
“Relax, you can stop the sympathy. I know you want to start strategizing how to solve all my problems,” Kon says, and leans up in what he hopes is a very kissable position, because he really wants one. “You’ve suffered enough, I know you’ve already thought through eighteen different plans.” 
Tim lets out a shuddering breath, immediately sagging his shoulders. “Thank you,” he says, sounding exhausted. Distracted, and clearly already thinking of how to phrase his plans, he meets Kon halfway for a kiss. It's even a proper kiss, soft and sweet, and it really does make Kon feel better. Then, to his surprise, Tim also presses a more tender one just between his brows. “I really do empathize, though. Just so you know. This isn’t me not empathizing. But I mean, if you're giving me explicit permission it's not like I haven't been starting to think about how we could test for these and help you stop worrying about them-” 
Kon shakes his head, fond and sweet. “I know. Your love language is solving people’s problems for them, I've accepted this about you."
Tim looks the tiniest bit offended. "I- that's not a love language."
"It is for you," Kon says. Then, he grins, looking up at his boyfriend through his lashes. "So come on. If it's your love language... Show me you love me.” 
Tim’s cheeks bloom red. But he smiles instead of shying away, then runs his fingers through Kon’s hair again, gentle and sweet. “Get comfortable then, because I’ve got a lot of- love to show. To finish the metaphor, I mean. There’s only five so far, but number three is kind of complicated, you're going to want to take notes, but I could summarize it again for you afterwards, when you're less cozy-”
Yeah, Kon thinks. There’s no denying how much Tim loves him. He might be a strategist at heart, but Tim also wouldn’t make immediate contingency plans for just anyone, either. 
Kon curls up on Tim’s lap soon after, with Krypto snuggled up onto his chest. As long as Tim keeps stroking his hair, Kon doesn’t mind the clinical approach to his problems. It’s nice to have a boyfriend who can both meet him where he’s at, and say what he really feels. Even nicer, he thinks, to know that it’s all coming from a place of genuine affection. 
322 notes · View notes
ocymoron · 3 months
Text
Tim Drake not being like the previous robins, in the sense that, he’s willing to give away too much of himself to fill the role. In the sense that, they had something that he just doesn’t.
and like, maybe that something is self preservation or maybe that something is hope.
younger Tim being exposed to the worst the internet has to offer because he has no one to stop him from looking. he’s already too old for his age, too observant and manipulative and fake and perfect because that’s the standard for a Drake. Going to galas and picking up on all the little innuendos and slimy comments that passed over his head previously and being disgusted but leaning into it a little if he knows it’ll help the company. Being cynical from a young age and finding out Batman and Robins identity and the world feels brighter for a brief moment in his life. It’s amazing for a while but like always he digs too deep, gets too curious, and the filter shatters when the second robin comes along and he’s too attached and his robin is dead.
He holds a grudge against Batman, watches a father self sabotage out of grief with something too dark to be good but steps in after the third victim he has to resuscitate. He plays the role of a starstruck but determined fanboy and adjusts as he goes along, minor adjustments here and there to keep the illusion alive and real.
But here, we come back to what he lacks. Because the previous Robins, despite what they saw and experienced and had to do to survive, were still young in way he isn’t, hasn’t been since ever.
He’s the smart one, the one that can lie to Batman and get away with it. He weighs the pros and cons, calculates the dangers and decides to go through with it anyway because he needs inside information to solve this case and it’s not like he hasn’t done something similar to close a deal for his company, this will just be further than what he’s previously done.
The club is loud and bright and crowded and he’s wearing way too little clothing and it itches and his feet hurt from the heels but he needs this information. So he leans into the wandering hands, lets his target guide his lips through a kiss they share, keeps his ears open in the mans lap as he lavishes his targets neck with teasing kisses and eventually, he gets what he needs. But he’s committed to his role, has to be if he’s gonna use it again, so when the meeting ends and the man drags him to a private room he follows and lets his inexperience shine through a little bit, bashful but eager to please. And maybe he scrubs his skin until it’s red and he burns the clothes but he closes the case and that’s what matters.
130 notes · View notes