#how steph was the one to step up and keep going despite the way everything seemed to fall apart after bruce died

[mid-nightowl]

steph as nightwing??? 👀

Yes, a hundred times yes. 

For me, the idea came out of this meta that @benbamboozled did ages ago (that I for the life of me cannot find now :( ) about how Barbara should have been the one to mentor Tim, but she wasn’t because dc (and superhero comics generally) are too cowardly to let a female superhero mentor a male hero. And it got me thinking--there were three “older” vigilantes and three younger vigilantes in the Batfam at this time, which then led to the whole Barbara mentoring Tim, Bruce babysitting Cass, and Dick mentoring Steph. Which would then eventually lead to Steph taking on the Nightwing mantle.

Nightwing!Steph was also an idea I had regarding the Batman!Dick era and the Tom King pitch of Tim becoming Nightwing during the Ric Grayson arc. In my delusional AU idea, after the “death” of Bruce, Dick would be Batman, Damian would be Robin, Barbara as Oracle, Cass would return as Batgirl after a short hiatus or be Black Bat, Tim would be Red Robin, Jason as Red Hood, and Steph would take over the Nightwing mantle while also attending college (a similar start to Dick’s own trajectory).   

I don’t have like a full meta on this (and I haven’t read everything regarding Steph so please correct me if I get something wrong or the vibes are off!), but I think Steph could be a worthy successor to the Nightwing mantle if there were a point in time where Dick moved on or couldn’t be Nightwing anymore. 

I think Steph embodies a lot of the same ideals and values that Dick/Nightwing resembles: hope, determination, and guts. There’s also the immediate similarity of the two of them being more light-hearted and quippy compared to the other Bats, which (almost) hides how capable and competent they are, but also how this happy-go-lucky mask hides anger and trauma.

Both of them had the guts to go out on their own, to create their own mantle and mask despite being told “no.” They both have the drive and determination in their actions to help others and stop criminals, and an innate need to be a hero/vigilante and that they can’t stop being a vigilante. And out of all the Bats, Stephanie has the most potential to represent hope, just as Dick does. 

To me, Steph has all the criteria to be one of the best vigilantes in the Batfam, but just doesn’t get the opportunities to do so. She’s got the foundations and the materials, she just needs help getting there. Being Nightwing (or being mentored by Dick) would give her the chance to showcase that. 

Being a vigilante that has ties to the Batfam but isn’t necessarily considered a sidekick character or in need of a mentor (like Batgirl or Robin), Steph could grow as a person and a vigilante with the Nightwing mantle. Nightwing is also a key component to the Batfam and is often the middle ground between the smaller groups within the family and I think Steph can easily step into that role, especially given her past relationships with Tim, Cass, and Barbara, her similarities and the trauma-bonding she does with Jason, and the older sister-younger brother relationship with Damian. Not to mention, Nightwing’s role as a leader in the Titans, which would give Steph a chance to show her capabilities to be a leader. But, Nightwing is also a stubbornly independent loner, a solo-act vigilante. So, not only can Steph be an important team player (in the Batfam and the Titans/equivalent team) but she'll also have the freedom to do her own thing. 

Nightwing (imo) was all about moving on, growing up and maturing on your own, and while Dick might not have realized what it would become later on, it’s grown to represent hope, the “universal constant,” and creating your own legacy. The transition from Robin to Nightwing is all about this, and I think this transition would have made a lot of sense for Stephanie (Spoiler to Nightwing = growing out of her anger towards her father but also growing out from underneath Batman/Batgirl’s shadows). I think there would still be issues and insecurities of Steph living up to a predecessor, similar to when she took on the roles of Robin and Batgirl, but I want to believe that Dick would train her well enough and his own belief in Steph taking on his mantle would alleviate these problems. 

There’s a lot of AU potential with Stephanie being Nightwing (I’ve got a few myself 👀), but canon wise, I don’t think we’ll see Dick move away from the Nightwing mantle ever. I think you could probably make a good argument for Steph to be Flamebird in canon and really introduce that mantle back into the Batfam (and her and Bette can bond over terrible mentors/families, being Batgirl, and being rejected).

I've got some more thoughts circling in my head about Dick mentoring a Spoiler!Steph, but I've kind of touched base about that here so I'll leave that for another time lol

thanks for letting me ramble about this idea<3 <3

[impyssadobsessions]

Prompt/Relationship Analysis/Headcanon DPxDC

Okay This can be taken as a prompt~ As I love to dive into possibilities of WHAT IF- Basically after becoming friends/adopted by the bats and entering the hero circle he starts to become insecure in his place as a hero. Not feeling good enough.

So I can imagine after Danny befriends/gets in touch with the batfamily in some way. Like they've pretty much adopted him and now he's surrounded by heroes- (Both from Gotham and outside of it) That he starts to get insecure about his heroics as phantom. He starts to get to know other vigilantes, some with similar struggles and then it just dawns on him that they're better at it then him.. in every way. There is always someone who has one of his powers and does it better. Who can do the only thing he has been dedicating himself to- way better. And it hurts. Danny who grew up with a "perfect" older sister and being known as the failure of the two-I can see his insecurity eat at him. The feeling of not being good enough. Which is bad if mixing his trauma and guilt of a future that never happened or fear of losing everyone. ESPECIALLY because he's close to the bats.. The batfamily are perfectionist- because they have to be but Danny can't see that. Even rougher if the bats don't even realize they're doing it. Yeah they're better at sneaking, duh. They're highly skilled, because they've trained on it to be that way. Even if they don't hold the standard on Danny's head- it kills him to know he with all his powers is struggling to be as good as them. Can see only ones really about to notice are like Duke and Steph, or like Kon and other YJ members. Those that know how it feels to be next to them. Kon or Steph having to basically spell it out for Tim- which Tim like what? Then realizes and feels dumb because its so obvious. (plus having felt that way before just feels like a double whammy) (Can see all the bat members having felt that pressure too so its like an OOF how did I not notice moment) Or Step and Duke spelling it out for the rest of the family.. like DUH =w= Babs probably figures it out too. Imagine a cute heart to heart with Duke and Steph, and Alfred. Those picking up on the reason WHY Danny's acting strange. Danny pushing himself harder- feeling guilty about making it a competition but also not wanting to fail- ends up breaking down a little. Because he feels not enough. Even if he had reconciled with his parents and everything- still lingers that he was failing school.. struggling as a hero, struggling with relationships. Now he with other heroes and the doubts are so heavy. But he has no choice to pull through. So he does as he always does and keeps going even if he's crashing. Danny just not realizing his worth, despite everyone seeing it. Idk just seem like a perfect bonding moment for after Danny enters the dc world, for the bats to be like OH fucking right. Because they just accepted him as their own- Like setup for each bat to have their own one on one with DAnny. Each relating in different ways. Learning each has their own motivation and they all worry about not being enough- but how they cope. Danny rethinking reasons why he saves ppl- and in the end its just because he CANT let things happen when he has the power to stop it.. And even if he's not enough- he's there. And that can make such a difference. ......IDK if any of this made sense btw- couldn't focus properly at work because many scenarios of this was popping in my head. Still can't focus enough to keep a consistent thought- BUT I wanted to get this out <3 Because the scenarios in my head are so cute.

[msfcatlover]

Nightwing!Damian would still be of the Corruption, though he has so many healthy relationships in his life that its influence on him is slipping. His swarm is smaller now than it’s ever been. His power fades day by day. He might even manage to be human again someday (he doesn’t know how he feels about that, when his swarm are so beloved & his monster side has always been a source of pride for Damian.)

Tim was always going to be of the Eye, being Oracle only doubles down on it.

Cass in the TMA AU is basically Agnes Montague, but for the Stranger. That wouldn’t change either.

Steph was only just starting out when Damian took her under his wing. She never fully got caught in the spiraling fixation on destroying her father by any means necessary, she couldn’t pursue one goal to the exclusion of all others, and as the first fully human (non-Alfred) member of the team, everyone would be doing their best to protect that humanity, monitoring her for any sign of supernatural influence and guiding her away before it could get its hooks in her (they are still Bruce’s children, after all.) Until she came out of the dirt, unsheltered & unprotected, already marked so many times over, with fear & rage boiling in her blood. Until Talia gave Steph her mind back, gave Steph a purpose again, and the rage boiled over plasmatic hate. Until Steph laughed like a roaring maelstrom, sparks crackling in her wild hair, something bordering on madness in her eyes, and Talia thought: Oh. I have made a mistake. (The storm would be leashed, eventually. Steph does have self control, she has goals to achieve, plans to make, and power alone could not do that. But in that moment, when Steph realized her killer was still killing people despite everything that had happened, in her pain & fury, she gave in. She stepped backwards off that invisible ledge and plunged headfirst into what she knew she was Becoming. She embraced it, wholeheartedly. In that moment, it almost wasn’t Stephanie Brown in that garden, but the Cataclysm itself inside her skin. Almost.)

Duke… I’m still struggling to think of a good match for, but honestly in this AU… His ability to connect, to make people listen to him, his desire to step up & save the city himself if he has to, and the fact Duke is the eldest/first batkid in this AU (giving him & Bruce even more in common when Batman had only ever fought alone) all make me want to say Web. BUT with his powers, his ability to lead a crowd, the sheer scale of his potential, I also want to say Vast? What little I know of Gnomon also says Vast, ALTHOUGH…. …we could play off their shadow control, invert Duke’s light powers for this AU, and say Dark. Which would make Duke borderline antithetical to Web!Bruce, but hey, maybe Web!Bruce wants to prove to himself just how much choice he still has—that the Web can make him as uncomfortable as it likes, but he’s still going to take care of a child in need. (Assuming he is going against the Web’s wishes, of course, and it isn’t reverse psychologying him…) (My gut says Web!Duke, though. The more I think about it, the more I like Web!Duke conceptually… but I am worried that it doesn’t fit him. That Duke’s all-or-nothing “if no one else is going to, I’ll do it myself” attitude & raw charisma is not close enough to the Web’s need for control. I don’t like it when people just assign characters an Entity for the Aesthetic(TM) or for shallow, surface-level reasons—it has to resonate with their own personal failings, or else what’s even the point?)

Jason was human when he joined the family, and they’d want to keep him that way… but I think by the time he gets back from the Red Robin arc, Jason would’ve been claimed by the Hunt.

Dick gets scooped up by the family almost immediately in this AU, and Cass does her best to temper in his early-days bloodlust. With Cass as his Batman, I think Dick would be tempted by the Vast, but ultimately chase after her by embracing his own Otherness. (Or Dick was already a Stranger when his parents fell. But honestly, I like the arc of Dick learning to love himself & following in his mentor’s footsteps so much more than making him a Stranger because Circus.)

[zahri-melitor]

Detective Comics: Fall of the Batmen.

Michael Akins as Mayor is such a neat piece of continuity here, because of course it brings you back to Brubaker/Rucka and the GCPD storytelling there in terms of when he was Police Commissioner, especially as it happens RIGHT at the time when Gotham once again pivots against the concept of the Bats as being their protectors. It's just a very nice long term nod in an arc full of them.

Cass is one of the characters at the heart of this, of course, because Cass is rerunning 'killing is never acceptable' and 'how do you consider yourself a good person when you've moved past your previous crimes', and then she yells at Kate and tears off Kate's bat in a way that echoes the Soul plot from Batgirl 2000.

Cass in a slightly oversized Hudson College hoodie is adorable as I'm not sure that it's Dick's (though it could be Dick's) but there's also a read that it's BARBARA's.

In terms of Lonnie, I actually think my favourite moment is the bit where Lonnie snarks that he no longer wears his mask on a stilt, he's grown up now, because ahahah yes! Reference back to Lonnie's original Anarky costume where the preteen was wearing a frame over his shoulders to hoist the mask up high enough that he looked like he was adult height! That thing was so silly but also a clever way of concealing his actual height. (Also Lonnie continues to be so convinced of his righteousness through all of this and the story keeps undermining him).

I do like that this all fell apart over Kate listening to Jacob and being a Good Soldier (TM). Don't listen to Jacob, Kate! It's also a very nice clash of Batman's Methods against Batwoman's Methods, because what happens tracks for both of them, and it's a reminder that these are two distinct properties and Kate Kane will always be more tied up in military imagery and decisions than Bruce.

Kate tells Tim he's being a bad boyfriend for keeping secrets from Steph. (Kate is not exactly a disinterested bystander here). The main secret being that Tim has found, now he's back and re-entangled in his passion project and seeing what happened to it, that he was lying to himself that he was setting up a system for Bruce that could function as a team without Tim there to maintain it, and doesn't actually intend to step away and study. Now, I think this is partly because I have already read Young Justice 2019 and I know how this connects into the starting premise of YJ19, but I don't actually find this to be a huge betrayal on Tim's part? Steph's also not discussing her own massive breakdown over the last 30 issues or so with Tim, and all Tim knows about it is Bruce's side of the story. Steph does some investigation behind Tim's back and also works out Tim at this point doesn't intend to leave Gotham, and honestly I think that it tracks for them both? Like, he JUST got back from being trapped in another dimension for a real world year and in comics time for several months, I think he's allowed to reassess whether 'leaving' is a thing he wants to do at this point, and is still working out how he plans to tell Steph. Now of course he should probably have a discussion about it with Steph if they're together, but also Tim and Steph having a somewhat unhealthy relationship based in concealment and lies? Wow, new territory for them.

It's really interesting, in terms of Tynion's entire arc for Tim and Steph together through this run has been about the fact that they're two teenagers on the verge of going to college, everything is about to change, and they have different expectations of how that's going to go. Steph's a lot more excited for leaving than Tim is, and clearly is more sure that Gotham is something she can put behind her and move past. Whereas Tim, despite what he occasionally says, is extremely reluctant to leave Gotham and can't tear himself away from it and has fought to return, multiple times, when anyone suggests leaving to him (Steph tends to see her past as something shameful she can move past and hide; Tim tends to see his past as his roots calling him home).

This is a very classic inversion point of growth for characters - finishing high school, deciding what they want to do as young adults - a period of learning about themselves and trying new things. And it's actually super fascinating to me that this is set up, ready to let their relationship rupture unless they BOTH put the work in to hold onto it. Tim and Steph being broken up is actually more status quo for them than being together! They're one of those classic 'orbit around each other but their relationship falls apart' character set ups. I actually enjoy how this storyline highlights that they actually have two very different goals, even if they think they have similar ones, and that if they want to go through this moment of growth they're going to have to either compromise towards each other or they'll pull apart.

There is also, hmmmm, some resonance in how the city is falling apart here with War Games and particularly War Crimes to my mind (don't run away!). The demand to unmask, the revolving around Steph in terms of whether any Bat should unmask and what it means to be a victim, Steph making judgment calls that resulted in outcomes she didn't expect...

The red phone to the commissioner gag! ahahahaha Batman 66 here for you all.

There is also a bunch of Mud Pack stuff in this storyline, but I think part of me is disappointed with the focus simply being on Basil Karlo, when there are so many other more interesting Clayfaces that could be included in this. Sondra Fuller? Preston Payne? Cassius Payne?Part of me kept waiting for more of a Peter Malley/Claything aspect to the story given the amount of mud everywhere being used for various purposes - what WOULD happen if part of Basil's clay, instead of being used in the Mud Room, had fused with another person? (I think too much about Clayfaces for someone who simultaneously thinks there are too many Clayfaces)

Also finally, this comic's art decides to torture me once again by referencing the Worst Batman Villain Ever Created, Metalhead. How I hate you, Metalhead, how I despise every time anyone decides to reference you (you are the worst, why will you not go away)

(Detective Comics #972. Why. Why do this to me Miguel Mendonca. This sight gag was missed by 99% of people who read this comic and the remaining 1% cannot actually LIKE Metalhead)

[hiriajuu-suffering]

I still have no idea if you're worth the choice

Steph. Oh I didn't think 2 weeks later after we lost any method of communication I'd still be pulling my hair out over a missed opportunity in my thirties, but here we are.

Intrigued. That's the word that always gets me. I can get a woman's intrigue but then I repulse her just as easily, like I did you. Intersectionality is always a difficult thing to be tasteful about when it invites dissent.

I thought you were better. You were so quick to sacrifice your ideals when something looked promising, that it would allow you to grasp at a strand of happiness when, without principle, those manifestations are, at best, fleeting. I'm not sure what I began resenting you for first - that you gave up your ideals on romanticizing against them or you were quick to see me as hostile when you knew you compromised our potential for it.

I never thought I'd say it, since we barely had more than a conversation or two, but

I miss you.

I didn't think it would happen to me. I wanted to do everything in my power to let the place you made for yourself in my heart fade away and eventually be gentrified, but it's not going away.

But this one's different. Different because we never met, did we? Our hearts connected then our minds clashed, but we never actually got to see each other eye-to-eye. You're the only reason I was even considering trying to break into Anime Boston, just Gatsby my polyamory panel hoping for a reinvigoration in your intrigue over me.

Maybe I didn't want to be right, but that's why the one means of connection we had left collapsed. I also know you'll never really see that. The minute an ugly, straight, cisgendered man says things provocative enough to garner hostility towards a few women, that was enough, wasn't it?

It wasn't worth it. Nothing was worth losing the tiny sparks we had despite never directly interacting meaningfully. I hate that I let myself watch and even be creepy at all, see you through some highs and lows not to stalk you but just to feel alright that you were doing okay. And you weren't a lot of the time. I wish you I could say for certain you're better off without me, because you certainly believe it.

I don't even need you to apologize for demonizing me, I'd still take you back in a heartbeat. I saw enough beauty behind your intentions that you burning a bridge means I'd just have to climb and swim.

The last thing I learned in undergrad was Goetheing my missed opportunities just led me down a path of envy and resentment. I look at my past self with a bit of disgust with just how much I denied myself on self-righteousness alone. I find myself making the same mistake again. With you. So as much as I'm apologizing to you, I'm apologizing to myself, as well.

If Steph is to slip me by - like Ash, like Fari, like Z.C., like L.L., like H.B., like J.P., like K.S., like N.V., like A.J., like V.E., like A.T., like B.R., like S.S., like S.V. - that's 15 lives I could've had: a slew of possibilities I refused to acknowledge until I actually let my personality disorder(s) fester in their energy.

Living the same regret, the fifteenth time, it's tough to bear. Even if they would pick the bear.

I don't want to let tokki represent that for me because I didn't give her the kind of shot I gave the last four: one of kindness and vulnerability. I decided to boast and flex, not put something out to show her she was a priority. Letting this go without taking every potshot I can feels wrong.

Maybe I'll find a way to reach her, one day. Until that day, another amazing and wonderful soul to drink over how I failed her. To spend moments alone on how it should be us keeping up.

I'm an idiot. If only because my anger over the normative ethics in the world forces my mind to wallow in melancholy instead of see just that many more steps ahead. I'm guarded to a fault.

But, for her, I wanted to let myself go again.

I can always romanticize the idea

but I know she'll never care to look that far into my heart.

That's the sadness I'll be feeling.

I really started searching for a convention girlfriend 2 years ago?

Fuck, does polyamory have its ways of humbling you.

Delta H Con, AnimeFest, Colossalcon Texas, San Japan

I got four more straws

Surely they can't all be duds...

aha..

:/

[river-bottom-nightmare]

Reverse batfam headcanons please centred on dickiee

i think about this entirely too often but yes yes of course.

languages were simultaneously the most simple and most complex thing dick had ever encountered in his long nine years of living. everyone in circ d’caleé spoke multiple different languages, and they'd lived in each other's shoes for so long that the travelling troupe developed their own little language, a mixture of everything and anything that could be understood. in addition to that, everywhere they went, dick picked up local dialects and accents with a tip of a hat and flip of his feet. of course, that made it a bit difficult to properly communicate when he had to live with the waynes. while bruce, tim, and jason could speak a smattering of other languages, english was what they defaulted to first and foremost. damian was fluent in both arabic and nepali first and formost, those just happened to be two languages that dick didn't speak very fluently. cassandra was just now getting the hang of spoken language with a bit of sign language thrown in. so the first few months of dick's shiny new home in wayne manor, everyone fumbled around words and phrases and vague gestures until they settled into hesitantly speaking french and attempting to convince dick to learn fluent english.

jason didn't like having a younger brother, he didn't. especially since that little brother was dick grayson. after all of the heartbreak and loss and weight of malediction bruce had lived with his entire life, jason could almost proudly say that he was one of the few people in the world to drive bruce out of his head, to get him to smile while taking jason out for ice cream, to sit him down and watch football with him, to make him laugh. and then here comes this upstart little brat who couldn't keep both feet on the ground for the life of him and thought football was actually soccer and who could make bruce laugh like it was fuckin' easy. who could so easily clamber up bruce's shoulders for a hug and beam as bruce ruffled his hair and sob into bruce's chest in the middle of the night when everyone was supposed to be asleep. jason had spent years coaxing bruce out of his shell, step by painful step, and dick made it happen with two backflips and a cheeky pun. it made jason's blood boil, the way dick never appreciated what he had, what he could do. the brat had taken to following him around, both in the cave, staring with awe as jason went through training routines, and in the manor, hopping into an armchair and asking jason to read a book aloud for him. it was irritating, just like it was irritating when dick popped jason's latest baking experiment into his mouth and loudly exclaimed how utterly delicious it was, just like it was irritating when dick dragged him to the aerial set bruce had installed in the batcave and asked him to watch his new routine. no matter what the rest of jason's stupid family said, dick was definitely not growing on jason. they could take their smiles and coos over the two "babies of the family" and shove them up their asses.

dick didn't understand why exactly bruce was so overprotective over the smallest things. he never let dick travel anywhere alone, regardless if it was as far away as france or as close as the one gelato place left in gotham. it was so unfair, because dick heard that bruce let jason run off to ethiopia of all places, and only went after him because cass had told bruce about it the minute jason left. he never let dick hang out with his friends, no matter how much dick asked to have a sleepover at wally's or go hang out with donna. on the rare occasions he said yes, they were only allowed to come to the manor. it was unreasonable, because bruce let tim run wild with young justice, despite the stories of tim going crazy after everyone in his team had died. tim wasn't crazy, as far as dick could tell, just a little paranoid and high-strung. also everyone on his team was alive, so dick didn't know what roy was talking about. cass didn't really want to go out anywhere, preferring to stick in gotham with her and tim's friend stephanie, but she had free reign over the city! and dick wasn't allowed to fight any major threats by himself at all. damian had battled deathstroke at his age, and dick was pretty sure damian was still in contact with the league of assassins, but dick couldn't even fight penguin with bruce insisting he be there for backup. he was so overprotective it made dick's blood boil.

being around dick physically hurt tim sometimes. not the crass (yet still somehow funny?) jokes jason made about dick jumping into body-slamming hugs and crash landing into laps so fiercely that even tim could feel it. but it hurt,,,,emotionally, so to speak. dick was just,,,,,dick was so much like stephanie, it ached. to be more specific, stephanie before. steph before she'd desperately bid for bruce's attention and landed herself at black mask's feet for her troubles. steph before the power tools dug her life away bit by bit until she was just gone. steph before she'd come back with green eyes and rage splitting at the seams of her scarred skin. steph before she realized that black mask had killed her and put tim in a wheelchair for the rest of his life for trying to avenge his best friend, and bruce had done next to nothing. tim would sit in his clocktower and force a smile onto his face as dick rambled on and on about the most meaningful of meaningless things, as dick shoved new foods he'd never tried before into his face, as dick laughed loud and bright and clear, trying to forget a time when steph would do the same. she smiles now, grabs lunch with him and cass, wakes up on days when there isn't any green in her vision, but she'll never be who she used to. and tim prays that there never comes a day when dick ends up like her.

dick feels,,,,,isolated sometimes, compared to the rest of his new family. or no, maybe isolated isn't the right word. set apart, maybe, or differentiated. both damian and cass had spent their lives being beat and broken and put back together supposedly stronger than before until they were almost wiped away entirely. steph and jason had both grown up poor and hungry and flinching back from their fathers, bending under gotham's merciless weight. (then steph had died, and come back worse than ever imagined.) tim had grown up lonely, had learned to fend for himself, had turned his name into a half-revered, half-feared whisper even when his legs were taken from him. maybe dick could have related a bit to bruce, but bruce had put himself through so much hardship and so much suffering in an attempt to keep himself from ever being hurt again. in contrast, dick hadn't gone through nearly as much. he'd been happy before the circus came to gotham, happy and cared for and loved. but that didn't mean he couldn't still help. he could sit and listen as they raged, because their anger couldn't touch him; he had no part in it. he could coax out smiles from their stone walls and laugh enough for all of them put together. he could take a name that had previously only been associated with death and heartache and turn it into the light and joy of gotham. he could dust the stillness from the curtains and breathe life back into wayne manor. and that, for him, was enough.

tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @bikoncon @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridge @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy @red-hood-redemption @capricorn-stark @batshit-birds @comics-observer

[enigmatic-robin]

Brainteaser

Continuation of Happy Accidents

Summary: Stephanie wants to be just like her fathers, Edward Nygma and Jonathan Crane. Including the villainy. Edward isn’t so sure how he feels about his child having a criminal record.

Words: 1263

Edward knew, of course, that teenagers were supposed to be so much worse than children. Edward himself had stopped submitting to his fathers punishments at twelve and began fighting back. It was the time when children started gaining their will, becoming more and more the person they were meant to be.

Of course no parenting book prepared him for this.

“Daddy, come on! Robin has to be like ten!”

“Well do I look like The Batman? He can parent his way, I personally don’t want to involve my child in the fight” he argued, running a hand through his hair tiredly.

“Red Robin and Black Bat too, they have to be around my age.” Stephanie pouted, still pushing. “I learned everything Aunt Diedre and Aunt Nina know, and I won’t even fight Batman, I’ll just distract Robin while you fight him”

“I said no, I’m not getting my sixteen year old a criminal record”

“Then I’ll do it myself” she hissed, running up to her room. Edward groaned, heading outside into the aviary, joining Jon on the bench.

“She is exactly like you” Jonathan chuckled softly.

“You heard?”

“Windows open. You know your answers ain’t gonna satisfy her, they wouldn’t satisfy you”

“So what do I do, just… let her put herself in danger? I can’t do that”

“Now when in the hell did I say ‘let our daughter get punched by a neurotic in a fetish suit? I’m saying to act like you’re talking to a younger version of you, what would you respond to?”

Edward groaned, running a hand over his face.

“I wouldn’t. I’d go get punched by the neurotic in the fetish suit, Jon. That’s the problem” Edward lamented, leaning all his wait on Jonathan, who almost fell off.

“Oh lord. My husband, ever the dramatic” Jon pushed him, trying unsuccessfully to move him.

“When I let Tim work with me in the lab he seemed to settle.”

“I already let her write riddles, but it’s not enough, she needs to watch the bats struggle with it”

“Look, why don’t you…just once maybe let her go; Diedre and Nina will protect her, she’ll see just how much of it is just waiting around, and she’ll drop it. You could even dress her like one of the girls and have that one stay home, he’d never know. Either way, she ain’t giving in”

“Fine! Fine, I’ll figure something out”

—-

Nightwing wasn’t in Bludhaven, which meant the Batman patrolling wasn’t actually Batman; perfect time for Steph to come out. She had insisted on dressing similarly to him, though the purple and green had been inverted.

The riddles had been spread out, leading to the Gotham museum, or more specifically a large emerald on display. It was almost laughably easy to get in, especially for a Gotham museum exhibit. Stephanie held the large stone, needing both hands. She looked over thoughtfully before passing it to Edward.

“Matches you real well. It looks like your eyes a bit”

“Won't match his Arkham uniform, though” a voice said from the shadows. Stephanie and Edward looked up, finding Red Robin and Black Bat on top of a large exhibit case.

“Oh, look. It’s the former Boy Blunder and his silent knight.” Edward huffed, turning to Query and Echo. “I trust you can take Bird Brain?”

“Yessir” Echo confirmed, Edward taking several steps back. Red Robin turned to Black Bat, muttering quietly to her. She nodded sharply and leaped towards Edward as her companion entered the fray with Query and Echo.

“Shitshitshitshit-“ Ed muttered, motioning for Stephanie to follow him as he started in the opposite direction. She kept pace, keeping an eye on their pursuer, who was gaining on them steadily despite their head start.

“Daddy, keep going, I got this, take it back to base, I’ll meet ya!”

“What-“ Edward was cut off as he ran through the doorway to the next exhibit, only to hear it shut and lock behind him. “Oh for fucks sake-“

—-

Steph locked the door, turning around in time to swing around and hit Black Bat with her cane, standing her skidding back slightly.

“Alright, time to fly back to your little cave” she huffed, kicking out, only for her leg to be grabbed. Black bat pulled, wiping her remaining foot from under her. Steph caught her cape on the way down, sending the vigilante down with her. “Now now, it’s not nice to pull someone’s leg”

The girls grappled to get the upper hand on each other, both keeping each other on the ground with clumsy kicks and pushes like school children.

Stephanie was caught off guard by a hit, yelping as she was pinned to the ground.

“Never seen you before” Black bat said in an almost accusatory tone, one hand on Stephanie’s shoulder and the other twisted into her waistcoat.

“Call me Brainteaser, or Teaser for short if you’d like.” Stephanie leaned up, biting the loose section of the mask between the tip of the nose and the chin. She tugged hard, straining the stitches on the lower half of the face. Black Bat pulled at it, but Stephanie kept her teeth locked warningly. She wasn’t even pulling, the vigilante was pulling on her own enough for the stitches to loosen. She shook her head, loosening them more before pulling hard, stretching out the stitches on the left. Where the cowl hung, Stephanie could see a bottom half of a light tan face and a panting pink mouth, leaving her stunned long enough for Black Bat to throw her to the side, running to most likely regroup with Red Robin. Steph scrambled to her feet, face pink. Daddy didn’t have to know about that.

___

As soon as Stephanie opened the door to the Riddlair, Edward was wrapping his arms around her.

“Stephie, honey, you have a red mark on your jaw, that’s probably going to bruise. Are you alright? You came back fast but it feels like times been moving so slow, don’t you ever pull a stunt on me like that again” he rambled, mother henning as he helped her with the catches on the suit

“I’m fine, daddy. Let’s just go home. Dad and Timmy are going to want to know everything” she insisted, throwing her soft purple dress over her tank top and shorts, giddy with adrenaline still.

—

“And so I was pinned, yeah? And I realized her whole face is covered, so there’s gotta be a loose spot ‘tween her nose and mouth, and the bats are very particular about their masks, so I bit down on it and pulled and it ripped a little and- uh, she was able to get me off, but she ran, and I made it back to the rendezvous so Aunt Nina and Diedre could bring be back” she recounted, rocking on her heels. Tim beamed, hugging her tightly before picking her up and spinning her.

“You did so good! Look at my big sister, you did amazing!” He enthused, putting her down after she started laughing.

“I’m still gonna do better my first run, right, dad?”

Stephanie and Edward turned to Jonathan, who froze. Confused.

“Yeah, course you will. You’ll be with me after all, not an overzealous theater kid” he motioned toward Edward before pressing a kiss to Stephanie’s head.

“Brainteaser, I’m proud of you. You’re gonna give those bats a run for their money”

She grinned, thinking about the black clad vigilante. She couldn’t wait to go back out there.

And hey, getting caught didn’t seem like the worst thing either, anymore.

[fishfingersandjellybabies]

You’ll Have To Come and Find Me (Part 4) - fic

Characters: Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, other robs Summary: Dick caught Damian, and then he let him go. Tim didn’t know whether to scream or cry. A/N: during/post Robin #5

Ao3

~~

When he saw them, when he saw his brothers and best friend, for a moment, he felt hope.

They’d come for Damian. They’d followed Tim’s lead and come to take their baby brother home.

Because that’s what he needed to do. Because the more Tim thought about this tournament, the worse he felt. The more he knew he needed to get Damian out and away and safe. And he knew he couldn’t do it alone.

The relief he felt, seeing those silhouettes surround Damian on that roof.

For a moment, he felt everything was going to be okay.

…The moment was very brief.

Damian, that little shit, gave them a deal to catch him, and not a single Robin in any universe or timeline could ever turn down a rooftop race. Not even himself.

So that’s how he got involved, bringing up the rear, watching as the other three tried to reason with their youngest. Tried to catch him, tried to hold him and never let go.

At one point, he was side by side with Stephanie, but Damian used that against them, bouncing them off each other.

Tim caught the look in his eye, though. The dark look of betrayal as he glanced Tim’s way before bounding off into the darkness.

He knew what that look meant. What Damian was thinking. That this was all a ruse by Tim, that he never believed in him from the start. It was all a trick to get him into a false sense of security, then dogpiled by his predecessors.

He understood why Damian might think that, despite it being as far from the truth as possible. Doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt a little, though.

When Jason came across him and Steph, Tim let himself feel a little bit of hope once more. That meant Dick was on his tail, the one he trusted and loved more than the rest of them combined. If anyone could convince the kid to come home, it’d be him.

So when they saw Dick in the distance and started to approach, Tim felt his stomach drop as he took in his posture. As he realized he was alone on the roof, staring out into the harbour towards the boats he and Damian had been heading towards.

He couldn’t keep the despair from his voice. “Tell me you didn’t let him go!”

Dick turned back and smirked at them. “Kid’s fast.”

Tim tuned them out, then. Ignored whatever Jason and Stephanie said as he ran to the edge of the roof himself. Watched the shadow of Damian as he ran through the alley towards the docks.

After a few minutes, when he heard Jason and Stephanie retreat, he glanced back and found Dick still standing there, watching him now.

“Why?” He whispered. “He…you had him, didn’t you?” Tim looked down. “You could have brought him home.”

“He needs to do this, Tim.” Dick returned gently. “You know that.”

“…It’s not safe.” Tim tried weakly. “He needs help.”

“And he has help.” Dick smiled, stepping forward and ruffling Tim’s hair. “He has you.”

Tim blinked, turned to look down at the boats.

“You’ll keep him safe. I know you will.” Dick swore. “I believe in you.” Dick laughed. “You’ve been doing a great job so far, after all.”

Tim watched as Damian reached the boat and snuck on board. Felt his heart twist a little as he watched Damian turn around, eyes darting around the harbor. Looking for someone.

…Looking for him.

“Thank you for going after him when all of us were too stupid to.” Dick murmured, squeezing Tim’s shoulder. “He’s lucky to have you. We all are.”

Tim felt his lip tremble. From emotion, from exhaustion – whatever.

And Dick must have known, because without another word, he was pulling Tim into an embrace, holding the back of his head tenderly.

“I believe in you.” Dick repeated. “I believe in you both.” He held Tim for another moment before pushing him back. “Now, get going. We don’t want you to miss your boat. You and Dames have a world to save.”

Tim swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.

“Call if either of you need anything.” Dick reminded. “As far as we know, Rose still has her communicator.”

“Keep the Bat-jet fueled and ready.” Tim demanded, backing away. Dick smiled and nodded. Tim glanced to the other side of the roof, where Steph and Jason were watching. Jason nodded too, and Steph gave a thumbs up.

Tim inhaled a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, taking the opportunity to steel himself once more before spinning away and jumping from the building.

When he landed on the boat next to Damian, he glanced back to the roof. Their siblings were gone.

It was just the two of them.

“…You ready?” Tim whispered, bouncing his shoulder against Damian’s. Damian, surprisingly, rolled with the movement so that he was leaning his weight into Tim’s side. Tim noticed he was clutching something tightly in both hands. A stick of some sort, or a bar. Tim didn’t mention it.

“I was born ready, Drake.”

[woah-were-halfway-there]

Mia’s First Night At Home

A/N: *dj Khaled voice* anotha one. Lmao here’s another little piece that’s been requested! Now I’ll go back to writing the next part of JWIN lol. Also this is PURE fluff, just a warning.

also shoutout to @brockadoodles​ for yelling me about this little family like always 

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2.5k

It was all so crazy to comprehend still, but you and Auston were officially spending your first night at home as parents. 

You were discharged from the hospital around 14 hours after Mia was born. As you were in labour, other than the apparent fact of getting to meet your daughter and being excited for that, you wanted nothing more than to be back at your condo where you felt the most comfortable. You expressed that to Auston and your midwife many times throughout the night, and your midwife assured you that as long as your delivery and recovery afterwards went smoothly, you shouldn't have to spend a full 24 hours in the hospital. Luckily enough, things did go well, so you and Mia were both deemed healthy enough to go home. 

However, once you got home, your anxiety peaked. 

Although you had been told multiple times by your midwife and doctor, despite Mia being born a week and a half early, she was still very healthy. If she weren't, you and she wouldn't have been able to leave the hospital, which you had to keep reminding yourself. But everything was so new, and there was a lot of adjusting to do, you would've been lying if you said you weren't a little overwhelmed. 

Yet, you never admitted how you were feeling. Auston could just tell. 

You put on such a brave front, trying to act like you weren't as nervous about your first night home with Mia as you obviously were, but you were so bad at hiding those nerves. That was to be expected, though. You were in postpartum and had given birth that day. No one expected you to be calm immediately or used to everything that being a new parent entailed. But, there was no reason for you to be so unnecessarily hard on yourself. 

Something you were struggling with, though, was the fact that Mia wasn't breastfeeding. While in the hospital, you tried to feed her, but she would only take a bottle, and although that was a hard pill for you to swallow, you again had to keep reminding yourself how that was ok, and as long as Mia wasn't hungry, that was best. 

All in all, Mia being born was a gratifying experience, but also so, so exhausting. You and Auston were more than ready to have a night back at the condo to unwind a bit with your baby girl and ideally catch up a bit on sleep, but that didn't happen. Well, not at first, at least. 

Once the two of you brought Mia home, you gradually introduced her to Frank. Neither you nor Auston knew what to expect when introducing your daughter to your year-old Goldendoodle, but it went so much smoother than you anticipated. Frank took to having a new little human around very well, and it was almost as if he sensed something different with you too because once you were home that evening, he did not leave your side and was extra affectionate with you. 

Auston's family then came over for dinner, to which Ema refused to let you and Auston take any part in preparing or cleaning up after. She wanted the two of you to be as relaxed as possible and stay focused on your daughter because she also knew the upcoming days would be pretty hectic with everyone wanting to meet the newest little Matthews. 

Your brother, Nate, got into Toronto that evening from Montreal after receiving Mitch's call telling him that his niece had been born around 4am. He joined for dinner with Auston's family so he could meet Mia but then went to stay with Mitch and Steph so your little family could have your space for your first night home. You knew he'd be back the next day because your dad and sister, Mya, would be in from B.C then with plans to stay in the city for a few days as well so they too could meet their newest family member. Speaking of family, you knew your cousin Chris and the rest of Mitch's family would want to stop by at some point too. You also were aware that undoubtedly, guys from the team would be over as well. 

It was a big deal to many people that Mia finally arrived, but it was crucial that you, Auston and her, were all feeling up for how many visitors you'd be having in the upcoming days. This was why Ema prepared a couple of meals for you and your fiancè, without telling either of you and left them in the fridge before she, Brian, Alex and Bre all left for the night. 

Before Auston's family left, though, Ema made you and Auston promise that you'd call her if either of you needed anything. Whether that be picking something up or for someone to watch Mia while the two of you rested, she would be there as quickly as she could. But for that first night, you and Auston insisted you both wanted to try out caring for Mia on your own but agreed to call her if things got to be too much. 

After everyone left, the night did go pretty smoothly, and you were so thankful for that. 

Auston gave Mia a bottle around 7pm, then you both cuddled up on the couch with Frank as Auston continued holding her, and soon enough, Mia was passed right out. Much to Auston's dismay, because he just didn't want to stop holding his little girl, he still let you take Mia from his hold and put her in her bassinet as she slept. You both knew she'd wake up in three hours or so wanting another bottle, so you didn't go to sleep right away and opted to watch a movie together instead while you waited for her to wake back up. 

Less than an hour into the movie, you were fighting hard to stay awake. You were so exhausted, having not slept well at the hospital at all, and Auston didn't understand why you wouldn't let yourself rest. He knew it was because you were nervous, hell, he was too, but you were in recovery and needed to be mindful of that. It was like pulling teeth, but Auston eventually convinced you to sleep in your bedroom instead of out on the couch. He insisted that he'd be fine to stay up and give Mia another bottle before joining you in bed and calling it a night as well. You had no reason to doubt his fatherly abilities, so without any further argument, you and Frank crawled into yours and Auston's king-sized bed, and you fell asleep almost as soon as your head hit your pillow. 

Around 10pm, Mia stirred awake, looking for another bottle and in need of a diaper change, but Auston took it all on like a champ and handled it all with ease. Sure, he was a little nervous, but it ended up being way less stressful than he was expecting, and about an hour later, Mia was falling asleep in his arms again. So, without a second thought, he turned off all the lights in the condo, then quietly brought her into the bedroom.  He was careful not to wake you as he set Mia in the bassinet that was in the bedroom before climbing into bed next to you, pulling you close, then falling asleep soon after. 

Auston wasn't sure how long he'd been sleeping for, but with how it was still dark out, he knew it wasn't for long. He didn't hear Mia fussing, which he took as a good sign and figured he could roll over and fall back asleep for a little while longer. But, when he reached out to pull you close again, only to find the space next to him empty, well, then he was wide awake. 

He sat right up, wondering where the hell you could've gone, but couldn't come up with any ideas. There was no light coming from the ensuite or out hallway, indicating that you hadn't gotten out of bed to go to the washroom or grab a late-night snack or bottle for Mia from the kitchen, which left him even more puzzled. He then noticed how Frank wasn't there either and knew you couldn't have gone very far. 

Shaking his head, Auston then grabbed his phone to see that it was 3:30am and that he'd only slept for maybe four hours. However, he didn't hear Mia fuss at all even though he knew she probably would've woken up for another bottle during that time and had even set an alarm just in case, but then he realized the alarm was turned off and knew that you had to have been the one to do that. 

Still feeling a little confused, he got out of bed and used the light coming from his phone screen so he could see as he walked through the room, but stopped when his eyes fell on something, and his search for you soon came to an end. 

On the other side of the room, over near the closet, you were fast asleep on the ground next to Mia's bassinet, laying on the fluffy white rug that was there with Frank curled right up next to you as he slept as well. Mia was sleeping too. However, with the almost empty bottle resting on the ground beside you, Auston knew you must've already fed her. But what didn't make sense was why you hadn't taken the few steps needed to crawl back into bed instead of sleeping on the floor next to your daughter. 

Chuckling slightly at the image in front of him, Auston shook his head because he knew part of why you weren't in bed was because of your stubbornness, even though he was well aware you'd never admit it.

Without much thought, Auston then wandered over to where you slept and checked on Mia before leaning down to pick you up in bridal style and carrying you back to bed. He tried not to wake you, but with the way Frank groaned at the sudden disturbance to his slumber and you being shaken awake slightly, you then slowly blinked your eyes open and looked up at your fiancé as he carried you. 

"Aus?" You asked quietly, instinctively snuggling closer to his chest before he gently set you back on the bed. "W-what happened? Is Mia, alright?"

"Yes, Mia's fine," Auston assured before getting back into bed next to you and letting you cuddle up against him again as Frank hopped on the bed to join the two of you also. "You were sleeping on the floor, babe."

"Oh," you whispered, a pout forming on your lips as you did so. 

"How come you didn't just come back to bed?"

You were about to respond but stopped as you thought about the proper answer to his question, then sighed before telling him. 

"I was afraid to fall back asleep, but I guess I was too tired actually to stick with that."

"Babe," he replied, a slightly disappointed tone in his voice as he did. "You need to rest. I know you're anxious, I am too, but how are you going to be able to take care of Mia if you don't take care of yourself?"

Auston didn't say that harshly or anything, but it still struck something in you because you knew how right he was. So, after taking a deep breath, you spoke up again. 

"I know, I'm sorry," you told him, then sat up slightly so you could glance over at Mia, making sure she was still asleep in her bed, which you were able to tell thanks to the lights of downtown Toronto that still managed to somewhat illuminate through the closed blinds in your bedroom. "She's just so little and new, Auston. What if something happens to her while we sleep? I would never forgive myself just because I was too tired to be there for her."

At that, Auston sighed and just about melted as he observed you watching Mia, already being overcome by the fact that he knew you were bound to be such a good mother. Without saying anything, he then sat up too and leaned against the headboard before gently pulling you onto his lap, not stopping until your back was against his chest. Once he stopped moving, you then shifted so you'd be more comfortable. After that, you leaned back against him and mindlessly rubbed your hand up and down his arm while he kept them wrapped around your middle. He responded by resting his head on your shoulder, then the two of you remained there in comfortable silence for a little bit as you observed your daughter together. 

"Look at her," Auston spoke softly after a few moments. "She's fine."

"I know, but-."

"But if something happens, then we can face it together. We're both new to this whole parenting thing, Y/N. We are for sure going to make mistakes, but how else are we going to learn? It's ok to be worried about our new baby, but there is no need to be right now. Right now, it would be best if you rested because you gave birth literally 24 hours ago. Please stop stressing yourself out, babe. For me, for Mia and yourself. It's not healthy."

Once Auston finished his spiel, you slowly moved away so that you could look over your shoulder at him and respond. But instead of saying anything, you nodded once his gaze met yours, then leaned forward to catch his lips in a soft, sweet kiss. 

"Thank you," you mumbled against his mouth, then moved away to look at him again. "For holding me accountable and being the best partner in all of this. You're right, and I guess I needed to be reminded that I am still recovering and how I'm not alone. So, thank you."

"You don't need to thank me," he smiled. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be than here with you taking care of our daughter."

"Our daughter," you repeated, smiling as you shifted, then leaned back against him again. "I still can't believe she's here. We really made her, huh?"

Auston nodded, a grin stretching across his mouth as he followed your gaze over to where Mia was sleeping still. 

"I also can't believe it, but yeah. She's here, and she's so perfect. I never knew I was capable of falling in love with something so hard and so fast until you gave me her."

"I could say the same to you, Aus. We did this together, and I think we did a damn good job."

Your heart never felt as full as it did at that moment, and you loved it so much. Everything about your life seemed perfect, and it just made you so ridiculously happy. After that talk with Auston, you both were able to fall back asleep for a couple of hours before Mia woke up again. And even with your exhaustion and anxiousness that was still very present, you had never felt more content.

[awhitehead17]

100 ways to say I love you - TimKon edition:

Number 92: “I want you to be happy.” 

A/N: This chapter was inspired by Imagine Dragons song, 'One Day.'

Enjoy! :D

The cryptic, yet concerning, message replays in Kon’s mind as he lets himself into the apartment. The journey over has been torturous as several scenarios ran through his mind on what to what the implication of the message could mean. Typically his thoughts jump straight to the worst case scenario options although he’s quick to disregard them because he doesn’t want to be thinking about those.

‘Check on Tim, it’s been four days.’

As well as the message not having any details to it, the fact it came from Stephanie raises red flags all on its own. Steph never messages him. They have an odd relationship, one of which is awkward when they’re in proximity of one another yet they stay civil, it’s a non-spoken thing between them that they’re friendly for Tim’s sake.

Kon tried calling her back but it only ended up going to voice mail. Feeling frustrated and confused, Kon left Kansas immediately and headed for Gotham hoping everything isn’t as bad as he’s thinking it could be.

Not knowing what to expect Kon enters his boyfriend’s home cautiously. When he enters he finds the place encased in darkness and it’s quiet like no one is home. Shutting the door behind him, Kon toes off his shoes and adventures further into the apartment. He first checks the living room and finds it vacant, he goes through to the kitchen which is also empty before finally making his way to the bedroom.

Just like the rest of the apartment the bedroom is dark too however with his enhanced sight, Kon can make out the lump on the bed from where he’s standing in the doorway. Kon’s heart drops at the sight and everything finally makes sense. They couldn’t reach out to Tim because Tim didn’t want anyone reaching out to him.

Had he known what was going on, Kon would have stopped by Tim’s apartment a lot sooner than now, he honestly thought his boyfriend was nose deep in a case that’s why they haven’t been in contact this week. Oh how wrong he was. Guilt instantly eats away at him, while he had been galivanting around Kansas playing with farm animals, Tim has been cooped up in this room suffering all alone.

He can’t change the past, what’s done is done, all that matters is how he’s here now. He’ll hopefully be able to provide Tim with some comfort and give him the reassurance that he isn’t alone.

Kon steps towards the bed and when he reaches the mattress he carefully sits down on the edge, being sure to not jostle it too much. He leans over the bundled form and takes in the way Tim’s got the covers pulled right up to his face, the way he’s buried his head into the pillow underneath him and the fetal position he’s in.

For a while Tim doesn’t acknowledge his presence. Not knowing what to really do, Kon lays a gentle hand on Tim’s covered shoulder and squeezes it lightly. “Tim? Hey buddy, talk to me. What’s going on huh?”

Tim doesn’t respond to him so Kon shakes him a little, trying to rouse him to respond but not forcing the issue. While this seems to get a reaction from Tim, it’s not exactly one Kon had been after. All his boyfriend does is huff and grips the covers over him tighter.

Not deterred by the lack of response, Kon moves to running his hand up and down Tim’s arm. “You  can talk to me Tim, you know that right?” Kon says softly. “Whatever is going on you can tell me, you don’t need to keep everything locked and sealed inside yourself Tim.”

Underneath his hand Tim shifts but doesn’t move out of his curled position. “I can’t right now Kon.”

Kon frowns at the response. Despite him kind of expecting it, it’s still heart-breaking to hear. Tim’s in a vulnerable position right now and Kon needs to tread carefully, he doesn’t want to make it feel like he’s ganging up on Tim by trying to force him to talk, but he wants Tim to know he’s there no matter what.

Continuing with the stroking motion of his hand, Kon asks, “is there anything I can do for you?”

Tim lets out a long sigh and underneath the covers Kon feels his shrug.

“Do you want me to go? Would you like to be alone?”

Of course that’s the last thing Kon wants right now is for Tim to be alone even more than what he has been already. He asks out courtesy, knowing sometimes when he’s like this Tim prefers the solitary atmosphere. If he does want to be alone Kon won’t go far.

“No.” Comes the mumbled answer.

“Would you like me to stay by your side?” Again Kon asks out courtesy, when it’s situations like this it’s always best to be as clear as possible to make sure there aren’t any misunderstandings. Just because Tim apparently doesn’t want to be alone it doesn’t mean he wants Kon right next to him.

“No.”

Kon thinks about this for a moment. Not that it’s Tim's fault, but his boyfriend isn’t really making this an easy situation to deal with. He doesn’t want to be alone but he doesn’t want Kon to stay.

After a moment of thinking Kon comes up with an idea, he leans over to tell Tim this. “I won’t be far, I’m just going to be in the apartment alright. If you need me I’ll be in hearing distance, if you want to get out of bed and join me then that’s completely fine too. I’m just on the other side of that door.”

He doesn’t get a reaction from Tim, not that he was expecting one. Kon gives his shoulder one more squeeze before getting up and leaving Tim’s room. He’s planning on staying in the apartment until Tim tells him otherwise. If it’s been days that means the place will most likely need a freshening up, it’ll give Kon something to do and then afterwards he can attempt to get Tim to eat something as well. He doubts his boyfriend has had anything substantial recently.

Kon takes his time tidying the apartment. He opens the windows to allow fresh air in, he clears the mugs scattered all over the place and he clears the sink of the array of dishes that’s built up over time.

It’s when Kon’s in the middle of making dinner Tim makes his appearance. Kon is both surprised and pleased with his presence, he honestly didn’t think we would be leaving the bedroom that day. It’s amazing he’s been able to get out of bed.

Kon’s at the counter chopping some vegetables when two slender arms wrap around his waist. Wordlessly Kon shifts to accommodate the new weight leaning against his back and continues with the food preparation.

Moments later Kon hears Tim mumbling behind him from where his boyfriend has his face buried in his shirt. “I’m sorry.”

Kon frowns at the vegetables he’s chopping. “What for Tim? You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“For being difficult, for being a burden.”

“Hey,” Kon chides gently, he reaches up and squeezes Tim’s arms, “you are not a burden. Not now not ever. You’re going through a tough time and that’s okay.”

“I’m always going through a tough time.” Tim mutters unhappily.

Kon squeezes his arm again before carrying on with the task at hand. “I know it feels like that right now but we just have to try and take each day as it comes and eventually it’ll pass. I’ll be by your side the entire time.”

When Tim doesn’t say anything Kon feels a jolt of anxiety pass through him. His earlier thoughts coming back to the front of his mind. While he had been cleaning he was thinking about Tim and what may have caused this recent depressive episode.

Dipping into his own insecurities Kon’s mind came up with an answer that their relationship has caused it to happen. After all he didn’t even know Tim was feeling low, he hadn’t been paying enough attention to his boyfriend, Tim didn’t want to spend time with him, perhaps Kon is forcing himself on Tim when it’s too much for Tim to handle, Tim’s only with him because he feels obliged to be.

“Kon?”

Kon’s snapped out of his thoughts when Tim calls his name. He looks around to find Tim now standing beside him leaning against the counter staring at him worriedly.

Forcing a smile Kon asks, “sorry what?”

“Are you okay?”

“That’s my line,” Kon jokes lightly. Tim doesn’t look impressed.

“Kon.”

Kon sighs and turns his attention to the vegetables in front of him, all of which were now chopped up. He moves about the kitchen starting the next steps of getting their meal sorted. He glances at Tim as he works, as much as he dislikes the idea of speaking to Tim about this when he’s already feeling low he knows that he needs to talk about it. Communication is key after all.

“Please be honest with your answer Tim, and I will totally understand either way, just as long as you’re honest.” Kon speaking starts nervously. “Is our relationship too much for you right now? I mean with everything going on and how you’re feeling I don’t want you to feel obliged to stay with me when you may be better off focusing on yourself first.”

Tim stares at him with a shocked like he couldn’t believe Kon just asked that question. When Tim still hasn’t said anything after a while Kon begins to really worry, he has no idea what Tim’s response is going to be.

“Are you being serious?” Tim exclaims suddenly. “I can’t believe you asked me that! Kon you honestly have no idea how much you mean to me, how much our relationship means to me. You are the thing that keeps me going everyday Kon, I know sometimes it doesn’t seem like it but it’s true. You feel like a breath of fresh air compared to what I face in Gotham every damn day. You brighten up my darkest days Kon.”

Kon blinks at him, now he's the one feeling a shocked. He didn’t realise that’s what their relationship meant to Tim.

“Is our relationship too much for you Kon? I understand that I can be a handful to deal with, especially when the depression hits.”  

At that point Kon couldn’t do anything other than stop what he’s doing and go over to Tim to pull him into a tight hug. Tim goes along with it willingly and they stand there together for some time.

Kon leans his cheek on top of Tim's head. “I love this more than anything Tim. As I said, I’ll be here by your side no matter what. Good days and bad. I want you to be happy. I didn’t know if I was helping with that or making it worse.”

“You make everything better Kon, I’m always happy with you, even when sometimes it doesn’t seem like it.”

Kon hums and sways them side to side gently. “I’ll do my best to keep it that way.”

Tim lets out a small laugh at that and that sound alone makes Kon feel a hundred times better. He presses a kiss to Tim’s hair before letting his boyfriend go. He glances at Tim and the ingredients he had abandoned on the side.

“How are you feeling? Fancy helping me make the stew, though if you want to lay down I’ll understand.”

Tim sends him a small smile. While he looks exhausted Kon could see a spark of interest in his eyes. “I’m okay, tired, but I want to help. It’ll keep my mind busy at least.”

Feeling lighter than before, Kon beams at him. He quickly catches Tim up with what he’s prepared and together they continue to prepare the stew for their dinner. Everything isn’t magically fixed, Tim’s suddenly not cured and his insecurities haven’t suddenly vanished, but Kon is left feeling hopeful about the future.

[allthebooksandcrannies]

Life With You Makes Perfect Sense (You're My Best Friend)

TimKon Fanfic

Read on AO3 or Read my other works here

For context: this takes place during the time when Stephanie Brown was Robin after Tim's dad figured out his identity and made him retire. In the comics, Conner finds this out by coming to Gotham to look for Tim when he fails to show up at Titan's Tower and bumping into Robin Steph. Batman refuses to give Conner Tim's address but tells him that he has all the same skills Superman has to find him himself. Conner tracks down Tim's voice and confronts him in his bedroom. In the comics, he ends up leaving and doesn't appear to hear from Tim again until he comes back to the Robin role. This fic takes place as a sort of "what-if" to fill in that missing time.

I took the dialogue in italics from the first and last scenes directly from my copy of the TPB Teen Titans: Beast Boys & Girls (2005), though the body language that goes with the dialogue and everything else in the fic is mine.

Title comes from Tim McGraw's "My Best Friend"

Tim woke up clinging to the whisps of a dream that fled from the screeching of his alarm. As he blinked himself back to consciousness, he grasped vainly for the subject of the dream and was left feeling inexplicably wistful.

His fumbling fingers managed to silence the alarm, but there was still the unfortunate matter of having to heave himself out of bed, his limbs feeling heavier and more uncooperative than they had in weeks. Apparently, all the extra sleep he’d been getting since he retired still wasn’t enough to make Monday mornings suck any less.

He pushed away the traitorous voice in the back of his head that suggested that maybe his exhaustion had something to do with his conversation with Conner the other night.

Conner had shown up unannounced and asking questions Tim hadn’t expected to have to answer again. “Why didn’t you show at the tower yesterday? And what’s with this new Robin? The girl?”

“Last week…” Tim paused, trying to decide how best to make Conner understand. “My dad found my costume. He found out I was Robin, and he went a little—” Tim paused, unsure, “—overboard. I’ve been wanting to tell him for months anyway.”

Conner turned his head towards where he could hear Jack moving around, easily locking onto his vitals. “He seems totally relaxed now. His heart rate is normal and—”

Tim glanced back at Conner nervously, but still refused to look at him head on. “I quit.”

“You what?” Conner exclaimed.

“I’m not Robin anymore. I gave it up.”

“Why?” Conner couldn’t wrap his mind around what he was hearing.

Tim tried to explain, needing Conner to understand. His approval felt vital in that moment. “I never liked living two lives. I never planned on doing it for this long. And I never wanted to lie to my dad. Now I don’t have to anymore.”

Conner shook his head in denial. “Come on. You can’t do this to the Titans. That girl isn’t… She’s not Robin.”

Tim wanted to stop thinking about that night, but no matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t. The look on Conner’s face when Tim told him he wasn’t coming back to the Titans, how Conner refused to meet Tim’s eyes when he talked about how much he and the other Titans needed Tim, not just Robin. All of it. After all, what right did Conner have to come in and tell Tim how to live his life? Conner was born into this, he didn’t have a Before to compare the hero life to. He didn’t understand what it was like to be torn between two halves of himself.

At that thought, Tim paused about halfway through pulling on a shirt, and immediately felt guilty for even thinking it. Conner had just found out he was half Lex Luthor after all. He was probably the only person Tim knew who would understand exactly how Tim felt being stuck between his Dad and Bruce since the truth came out.

Tim pulled the shirt on the rest of the way with a mental sigh. He wasn’t really mad at Conner. Things had changed really quickly, and the other boy had made a lot of good points. As he ran through the rest of his morning routine, Tim’s mind continued its highlight reel.

“Let it go.”

“You’re my best friend, Tim. How can I? The Titans aren’t the Titans without Robin. They just aren’t.”

“Just because I’m not wearing a cape doesn’t mean we can’t hang.”

For the first time since Tim had explained his motivation, Conner finally met his eyes again. The resignation there made Tim’s throat tighten. “It won’t be the same. I’ve heard that from too many friends. Friends I never talk to anymore.”

And Conner wasn’t wrong. When was the last time he had talked to Cissie? Sure, he still got the occasional update on what she was up to from Cassie on Titans weekends, but that wasn’t the same. It was so easy to lose touch with people who left the hero game. Hell, he hadn’t even spoken to Dick since he quit, and they had supposedly been brothers.

Conner had every right to be worried. But what else was he supposed to do? There was nothing else he could have done to protect everyone’s identities, and it wasn’t like his Dad was about to let him go to group hangouts with a bunch of superteens.

Tim mulled it over as he mechanically choked down a bowl of cereal. His dad had been pretty adamant about the no contact thing, and Tim was trying to be the respectful son his dad deserved. But Conner wasn’t something Tim was willing to sacrifice for his new mission. Besides, what was the harm in just staying touch, it’s not like he was putting himself in danger.

Still, it was probably better safe than sorry. If he got his hands on a computer at school, it wouldn’t be hard to track down the Kents’ phone number. Then it was just a matter of waiting for Dad and Dana to be out long enough for him to have sole access to the landline.

Yeah, Tim thought as he threw his bowl and the sink and headed out to catch his bus, that would work. It would be enough. It had to. Tim just wished he didn’t feel like he was betraying his dad all over again.

-0-

If anyone could read his mind right now, they would be impressed by the amount of self-restraint Conner was exercising to control his strength as well as he was despite how frustrated he was. Unfortunately, poor Lottie the Cow could not read his mind, and, unlike Krypto, she wasn’t hiding any secret Kryptonian powers of her own.

After the third time he used just a tad too much pressure in his attempts to milk her and she shied away from him yet again, he had to concede defeat. As he swapped out with Pa (who was all too willing to pass off the stall mucking), Conner let himself feel the indignation he hadn’t been able to get out of his head since he spoke to Tim.

It just wasn’t right! Anyone with eyes could see how much Tim loved being Robin. Conner knew how much pride he took in being able to hold his own against some of the most powerful people on the planet. How Tim’s heartrate still sped up with excitement every time he swung off a building or when he flew with Conner.

His dad wanted him to be normal so bad? What was more normal than a teen managing to sneak out without their guardian knowing or taking their dad’s car out for a joyride with their friends. So what if the car was a Batmobile or if the adult he was sneaking past was a Tamaranean princess?

And the worst part was that he wasn’t even mad at Tim, not really. Sure, he had been pissed in the moment, but mostly he was just hurt. They had all finally gotten back to normal, and now Tim was leavingagain. It just wasn’t fair. Conner just wanted his best friend back, but every time they got over one hurdle another one showed up. And this was something Conner couldn’t punch.

“If you shovel any harder, you’re going to snap the end off again.”

Conner whirled around, barely managing not to break the poor tool in his surprise. Martha just raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him, a full basket of chicken eggs resting on her hip. “You want to tell me what’s eating you?”

Conner didn’t meet her eyes, just grabbed the now full bucket of manure to take it to the compost. “It’s nothing, Aunt Martha.”

Her brow wrinkled in concern, which was not what Conner had wanted at all. She took another moment, clearly choosing her words carefully. “Well… I know you don’t owe me your thoughts son, and I don’t pretend to know what it’s like to do what you and Clark do.” She started walking alongside Conner before continuing. “But I have raised one Kryptonian and I can listen with the best of them. So, if you need to get something off your chest…”

Dumping the bucket into the compost, Conner almost refused out of habit. Instead, he hesitated, casting his eyes to the side as he grasped for an answer. The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon. “It’s kinda a long story…” the note of disappointment in his voice seemed to surprise both of them. Martha didn’t miss a step as she steered them back towards the house. She too glanced at the rising sun and then sent Conner an appraising look. “hmmm… School is important. It would be a shame if you had woken up ill this morning and couldn’t attend.”

Conner felt himself gaping like a fish as he followed her inside.

-0-

Tim was pretending not to notice Dana hovering when the doorbell rang.

And wasn’t that a fun situation. Tim wasn’t quite sure how much Dana knew. He knew his dad hadn’t told her about Robin, as per the arrangement. But he wasn’t sure what story she’d been given instead, or, more likely, if she’d just been left to draw her own conclusions.

Regardless, she clearly knew Tim had been hiding something because she had been acting strangely ever since. Making excuses to keep him in view, asking much more probing questions about his day and who he was spending it with, checking out parenting books on “troubled teens.”

She hadn’t said anything to Tim about whatever it was she thought was going on, but she had always been over-protective of Tim. Sure it could occasionally cross over into infantilizing, but, after a lifetime of people only worrying about Tim’s wellbeing when it affected them, it was kinda nice to have a parent care so openly.

Still, this was starting to get ridiculous. It wasn’t like he was running a drug empire from the kitchen table, and writing an English essay while someone keeps sneaking glances at you while cleaning the stovetop wasn’t exactly easy.

So, the doorbell was a welcome distraction.

While Dana rose to answer the door, Tim tried to focus back on his paper, as if he could make it write itself with the force of his glare. However, there was no amount of effort that would ever keep him from recognizing that voice.

He was at the door before he even realized he’d made the decision.

“—don’t know why he didn’t mention it, ma’am, we made these plans last week.”

“Well, I don’t know if I’m really comfortable with letting you boys go without clearing it with Jack fir—"

Tim peeked around Dana’s shoulder to see Conner Kent, glasses and all, staring up at his stepmom with an almost comically earnest expression. “Dana?”

She glanced back at Tim, not letting go of the half-open door. “Your friend—”

“Conner,” the boy in question supplied helpfully.

“Right,” she said with a forced smile, “Your friend, Conner, was just telling me that you two made plans to get together to study tonight? Tim, honey, you know your Dad wants you to let him know before you make plans to go out with people we don’t know.”

Tim did know. It was one of many new rules that his dad had decided to implement after he found his Robin gear. The restrictions chafed, but, as his dad pointed out, he definitely deserved the lack of trust at this point.

But when he caught the cocky “play along” grin over Dana’s shoulder, Tim stomach filled with warmth at the familiarity. He quickly schooled his expression into an appropriately sheepish smile. “Sorry Dana, I guess it just slipped my mind.”

Dana softened, her grip on the door slackening just a tad.

“If it helps, Mrs. Drake,” Conner broke in, “we can just study here.”

Tim wondered if Conner had learned the earnest and polite young man routine from watching Clark or if it was just natural talent. Either way it was enough for Dana, leading her to relax and open the door completely.

“Oh, that would be perfect! Tim, honey, why don’t you get you and your friend set up at the table? Will you be staying for dinner, Conner? We’re having Chinese tonight, and it’d be no problem to order an extra serving.”

“That would be great, Mrs. Drake!”

Dana headed back towards the kitchen, presumably looking for the takeout menus, leaving Tim and Conner in awkward silence. Tim decided to break the tension first.

“I’m sorry, Conner, I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I know you were just trying to help.”

“Wait, that’s supposed to be my line! I’m sorry, Tim. I didn’t mean to make it seem like I didn’t think you could make your own decisions.”

“So, still friends?”

“Please! You didn’t think I’d come all the way to Gotham to ditch you now, did you?”

“Why did you come? If that was it, why not just come in the window?”

Conner shifted his weight, hand tightening minutely around the strap of the backpack slung over his shoulder.

“Well, I was talking to Ma earlier, and she helped me realize that even if Robin can’t hang out with Superboy, that doesn’t mean Conner Kent can’t spend time with Tim Drake.” He looked up from his shoes, his blue eyes putting the Gotham sky to shame. “That is… if it’s okay with you?”

If you had asked Conner, Tim’s answering grin could have lit up even the darkest Gotham alley.

-0-

Fifteen minutes later found Tim and Conner side by side at the kitchen table, various homework from various subjects strewn out about. Leaning over under the guise of checking Conner’s math, Tim murmured under his breath for only Conner to hear: “So Conner Kent wears flannel now?”

Conner snorted. “I’m pretty sure it’s the only thing they sell in Smallville,” he whispered back. “Why? You a fan?”

“To be honest… I miss the leather,” he replied thoughtlessly.

“Is that so?” Tim realized what he’d said out loud a moment too late. “I guess I’ll have to keep that in mind,” he smirked.

“Oh, shut up,” Tim replied with a little shove that did absolutely nothing but prompt Conner to break out into full body laughter so loud it drew Dana in from the living room to see what was going on.

When she found a blushing Tim whispering back furiously and sending her embarrassed looks, she let out a chuckle of her own before leaving them to it. She had a good feeling about this kid.

-0

It quickly became routine for Conner to come by after school to do homework a few days a week. Tim had worried that it might have been getting Conner in trouble, but Conner had assured him that he had worked things out with ‘Ma so that he still got all his chores done in spite of the extra hours he was putting in Gotham. And as for Batman, well, if he didn’t want him coming to Gotham to see Tim, he shouldn’t have told him how to find him.

And at least he wasn’t dangling the latest Robin in mid-air anymore.

Whether by fate or weird coincidence, however, he still hadn’t managed to run into Jack Drake while he was monopolizing his son’s time yet. The first night Conner stayed for dinner had ended with them all waiting for half an hour after the food arrived before Jack remembered to call and let Dana know he would be working late. It wasn’t the last time either. And the nights he did come home for dinner were the nights where Conner had already planned to head home early to have dinner with his own family.

Not to say Conner minded. He had some thoughtsabout Jack Drake and the way he treated his son. It was probably better for everyone that Conner spent as little time with the man as possible.

But there was only so long that could last, especially since Tim was practically dying to get out of the house for more than just school or Jack’s father-son excursions.

Unfortunately, as time went on Jack had only gotten more paranoid about where Tim was going and what he was doing, not less. Lately, Tim was practically on lockdown since it was such a pain to get permission to go anywhere without his dad or Dana. The last time he had gone out to the diner with Bernard and Darla his Dad had “just happened” to stop by for a to-go coffee. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that he had been making sure Tim really was where he said he was.

His only saving grace was Dana. While she still enforced his dad’s rules (apparently not wanting to undermine his parenting), Tim had overheard her arguing on his behalf with his dad on multiple occasions, insisting that Tim was a good kid who had earned a little bit of freedom. Granted, these conversations rarely accomplished much besides getting Jack to dismiss her concerns as a lack of understanding due to not having children of her own. Still, Tim appreciated the support. Particularly since Dana had clearly decided that she liked Conner and essentially left them to their own devices while they were “studying.”

Now in addition to actually doing their homework, they were able to spend time talking about the rest of their lives, especially the normal civilian stuff they never seemed to have time for during Titans weekends. Everything from friendships, to TV shows, to their relationships with their parents was fair game. Tim had felt like he knew Conner before, but this was a whole new level. And the more he learned, the more he wanted to know.

And that’s why he had recruited Dana.

It hadn’t been hard. For once in his life, being completely honest with an authority figure about what he wanted was enough. It probably shouldn’t have felt as weird as it did.

Dana had given him a strange look when he mentioned he wanted to hang out with Conner outside of studying, but she had agreed that she didn’t see a problem with it. After all, if his father was alright with him spending time with Bernard (who Dana knew firsthand was not exactly the best of influences) then surely he would be okay with Tim spending more time with “a nice young man” like Conner. He just needed to meet him first.

It would be fine. Probably.

And that was how the two of them had ended up setting the dining table while Dana put the finishing touches on what she assured Tim was Jack’s favorite meal.

“Dude, you’ve got to take a breath,” Conner whispered as he reached around Tim. “I’ve heard your heart beat slower going up against literal mercenaries.”

Tim snorted. “I’ll take Deathstroke over this any day.”

“Hey now,” he shot back with a scandalized hand to his chest, “I’ll have you know I am delightful company!”

Tim’s futile attempts at a mock glare were interrupted when he could no longer hold back the urge to giggle at the absurdity of the situation. He could go up against the worst the world had to offer without thinking twice, but the idea of his dad and his best friend in the same room had him on the verge of a panic attack.

He shot Conner a grateful smile. “I just really need this to go well.”

Conner slung a careless arm around Tim’s shoulder but spoke with a level of seriousness he rarely let people see. “And it will, I promise. We make a good team, remember? We can handle this.”

Tim nodded and drew in some deep breaths to calm his racing pulse. Conner didn’t say anything else, just let him take the minute he needed. Just as Tim had gotten a hold of himself and was about to gently shrug off Conner’s arm, Conner pulled away of his own accord with a parting squeeze of Tim’s shoulder.

“He’s here,” he explained, gesturing to the front door with his chin as he finished off the last place setting.

Sure enough, a moment later Tim heard the telltale click of a key in a lock. There was a very slight possibility that his breathing may have quickened again just a bit if the bemused look Conner sent him was any indication.

Tim most definitely did not stick his tongue out at his friend before heading to the entryway to take his dad’s coat.

Conner and his snicker followed a beat behind Tim. When Jack’s gaze finally landed on Conner, Conner felt his spine straighten involuntarily. Jack didn’t say anything at first, and in the stretching silence Conner felt himself trying to channel every bit of the big blue boy scout he had in him.

Jack’s eyes cast over every bit of Conner’s appearance, from his glasses to his button up to his clean but scuffed sneakers. Conner was uncomfortably reminded of being a literal lab specimen under observation.

Suddenly, Jack’s expression morphed into a charming smile Conner didn’t trust for an instant. He stuck out a hand, and Conner was so caught off guard by the sudden transition that he almost forgot to shake it.

“You must be Tim’s friend. Carter, right?”

“Er—”

“It’s Conner, Dad.”

Jack waved Tim’s correction away. “Right, right, Conner then.” He started walking off to the living room, clearly expecting them to follow. “Dana tells me that you’ve been coming over to study quite a bit lately. I hope your grades have seen a better uptick than Tim’s have.”

Conner sent a questioning glance Tim’s way but didn’t get a response other than the visible tension in the other boy’s jaw.

“Not really sure what the point of a study group is if it doesn’t actually raise your grades any,” Jack continued.

Assuming that the biting comment was rhetorical and feeling supremely awkward, Conner didn’t respond right away. But as the three of them each pulled up a chair, Jack’s impatient expression clued Conner in on the fact that he was actually supposed to answer.

“Er…yes sir. I’ve been really lucky to have Tim’s help getting caught up.”

Jack was saved from responding beyond a noncommittal hmm by Dana’s arrival with the food. As she placed the casserole dish of what looked like enchiladas on the table, Dana gave them all a forced smile.

“And it’s been so nice getting to know one of Tim’s friends, Conner.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Drake.”

“So how did you and Tim start hanging out?” Jack questioned absently.

They had prepped for this question. Conner used the opportunity to launch into an overdramatic retelling of a group project they had worked on together and how they realized that they worked well together. Like all the best lies, it included just enough details not to be suspicious while still having a kernel of truth.

His story succeeded in breaking the ice enough to get conversation started, and Conner felt himself relaxing. He had meant what he said to Tim earlier, but he didn’t exactly meet that many new civilians. But Tim had prepared him well, and this wasn’t his first undercover op. He skillfully navigated around dangerous truths and gave the performance of his life as the perfect All-American teen.

Maybe he should have felt guilty about lying to these people who had opened their home to him. Clark probably would have had something to say about it. After all, on paper Jack had every right to be upset. His son had literally been throwing himself in front of bullets for strangers for years behind his back. Not only that, but he’d been doing it alongside another adult he had trusted to have his son’s best interests at heart. Surely any good parent would have been just as upset, right?

But Conner was very aware that Jack Drake was not the parent he believed himself to be.

Good parents didn’t ship their kid off to boarding schools from the minute he was old enough to attend, and then never show up for the few weeks their kid is home.

Good parents don’t look at everything that makes you you and try to sand it away so that you’ll fit some perfect ideal they have in their head of what you should be.

Good parents don’t look at the emotional scars and bruises they’ve given to their child and tell them that its their own fault for making them do this, for not being enough or for being too much.

Jack Drake may not have laid a hand on his son, but he’d still done plenty of damage, and Conner was forced to watch Tim thank him for it.

So, no. Conner didn’t feel an ounce of guilt for lying to the man who constantly left his favorite person more confused and conflicted than any mystery Batman had ever handed to him.

Tim may not realize that he deserved better yet, but that was alright. Conner would flatter and charm and play meek and responsible without feeling a single thing if it made Tim’s life easier.

As the conversation shifted to what was new with Dana’s sister and her kids, Conner met Tim’s eyes again. Tim subtly tipped his glass approvingly toward Conner, and Conner sent back an answering wink.

Well, he corrected internally, maybe he’d feel one thing after all.

-0

Gotham wasn’t exactly known for its tourist attractions. It was kind of a risky financial decision to try to open anything that encouraged a lot of people to congregate in a city where crowds drew Rogues like killer moths to a flamethrower. And that went double for anything that could be construed as children’s entertainment.

Luckily, Gothamites were both stubborn and spiteful, so there were a few places, like the traveling carnival currently set up near the harbor, that popped up every now and then with that brilliant fuck you energy that so clearly defined the city.

After last week’s dinner got off to its admittedly awkward start, Conner had hit his stride. Seamlessly switching between the perfect “aw shucks, me?” smile when asked a question about himself and then an earnest “tell me more about…” to turn the conversation back to Jack’s interests, Conner would have earned even the Batman’s reluctant approval.

By the end of the night, Jack was riding the high of getting to speak about himself to a willing audience for so long. It was all too easy to get Jack’s permission for Tim to hang out with Conner outside the house… as long as he still made sure to call and check in on the hour, of course.

Tim hadn’t hesitated to get them tickets for the second night the carnival was in town (not wanting to tempt a Rogue’s attack on the first), and the night had finally arrived.

Now, sharing a seat on the ferris wheel with the other teen, Tim couldn’t understand why he’d been so worried. He’d always been the first to insist that there was so much more to Conner than people gave him credit for.

Tim found himself glancing at Conner out of the corner of his eye. Luckily, the other boy was too busy leaning over the railing to watch the sun set behind the city skyline.

Most people looked at Superboy and saw a brash, arrogant, and (if he was lucky) comical teenager. They dismissed him as the brawn to other Titans’ brains. They couldn’t understand how he could be so different from Superman.

Tim knew better than that. Sure, he could be all those things, but what teenager wasn’t? Especially considering all the shit the authority figures in his life had put him through. And yeah, he was funny too.

But Conner was also a damn good friend. He was loyal and brave and empathetic and fiercely protective of the people who had earned his respect. He paid attention to people, and he cared so deeply, even though he tried to cover it up with nonchalance and a confident façade. He might be bulletproof, but Tim would protect that vulnerability he saw until the day he died.

“Alright. Where’d you go?”

Pulled back into the moment rather suddenly, Tim was startled, but he didn’t have to worry about coming up with a suitably mysterious response here. “What?”

Conner snorted and raised one hand to slide his sunglasses just far enough down the bridge of his nose that he could meet Tim’s eyes.

“You’re looking at me weird. What’s up?”

As Tim tried to decide how to answer in a way that wasn’t completely cheesy, the ferris wheel paused again, this time with the two of them at the very top.

“I just—I’m just really glad you’re here. Thanks for coming to Gotham.” He didn’t just mean today either. He meant all of it. The first time he came to find out why Robin wasn’t at the tower, the time he showed up at Tim’s door even what would have chased anyone else away, and every other time they had hung out since.

He didn’t have to specify that though. The blinding smile that broke out over Conner’s face made it clear the message was received.

Conner took a moment, trying to school his expression into something a little smoother, but it was a lost cause. Eventually he just settled for clearing his throat. “You don’t have to thank me, Tim. There’s no place I’d rather be. Besides,” he continued as he casually threw an arm across the back of Tim’s seat, “everyone knows Gotham has the best sunsets.”

His heart pounding, Tim took a deep breath and let himself sink into Conner’s side. For a second, Conner stiffened and Tim worried that he’d made a horrible mistake, that he’d ruined everything.

It was only when he felt the comforting weight of Conner’s arm move from the seat to wrap around Tim’s shoulders, pulling him closer, that Tim let himself believe that this could be okay. They could have this.

The leather of Conner’s jacket was cool against the side of Tim’s face. The sky was a brilliant mess of golds and reds and purples. And Tim was with the person who made him feel safer and more himself than anyone else on the planet.

“Yeah, I suppose we do, don’t we?”

-0

That evening, Tim sat down on his bed, pulling his camera out of his bag. He was looking forward to developing them. Maybe he’d give Conner a few of the shots if they were any good.

knock knock

Tim looked up to see Dana leaning up against the doorframe she had knocked on.

“Hey, Honey. Did y’all have a good time?”

Tim couldn’t have held back the smile if he’d tried. “Oh yeah, it was awesome!”

Dana smiled back just as warmly. “Oh, I’m so glad!” Tim believed her. That was the best thing about Dana, she was one of the most genuine people he knew, and for some reason Tim couldn’t fathom, she had always seemed to care so much about Tim.

“Do you mind if I come in, sweetheart? There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about…”

-0

“I swear to god I used to be good at keeping secrets,” Tim groaned as he allowed his head to thunk dramatically against the diner table.

Conner didn’t look up from his menu, but he did use his TTK to save their waters from tipping over. “Sure you were,” he deadpanned.

“I was literally trained in deception and resistance to interrogation by one of the best detectives in the world.”

“Yup.”

“She still doesn’t know I was Robin. Neither of them have made the very obvious connections between you and a certain Boy of Steel for some reason.

“It’s the glasses.”

“It is not the glasses.”

“It is,” he said. “Conner Kent wears glasses, and Superboy doesn’t. Therefore, obviously different people.” His forehead crinkled. “Do you think a sweet potato milkshake would be any good?”

“It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing I’ve ever eaten.” Tim squinted back up suspiciously from where he was still sprawled on the table. “Also, I feel like you are not being nearly sympathetic enough to my plight.”

Conner finally gave up the pretense of looking at the menu and dropped his chin to rest on his hands on the tabletop, so his face was only a few inches from Tim’s long-suffering expression.

Unfortunately for Tim’s dignity, Conner’s crooked grin was infectious. “How long did it take her to figure it out?”

“Ugh, she apparently she knew the minute she saw me, but at least she promised not to tell Dad.”

Conner snickered.

“Don’t laugh! She tried to give me the talk, Conner!”

That just sent Conner into full-body cackles. Tim watched him throw his head back and couldn’t help but feel proud. He did that. But he wasn’t done pouting yet either. It was the principle of the thing, after all.

“Sorry—” Conner gasped, “Sorry babe!” He leaned forward to place a kiss to Tim’s forehead, reveling in the way his boyfriend blushed so immediately. “You can hide just about anything else, sure, but you’ve got absolutely no poker face when you’re happy.”

Tim grumbled good naturedly like the absolute gremlin he was before finally deciding to sit up when a rather unimpressed waitress stopped by to take their order.

When she walked off, Conner turned back to Tim, casually taking one of Tim’s hands in his as though they weren’t both still completely in awe of this new development.

“So…” Conner started. “You were supposed to get together with your Wizards & Warlocks friends over the weekend, right? How’d that go?”

Tim’s eyes lit up as he started telling Conner about the most recent developments to their current campaign. Conner did his best to make sense of all of the characters and jargon he had no reference for, since it clearly meant a lot to Tim. Though that was made a little trickier by how much fun he was having just watching Tim.

He rarely got to see him so animated, due to the expectations constantly heaped on Robin and Tim Drake alike. When talking about something he enjoyed, however, Tim came alive. So, Conner listened, asking real questions that sparked off another tangent every time he started running out of steam.

Conner wondered if Tim’s eyes had always sparkled that much when they were hidden behind a mask. He didn’t think so, but either way he was just grateful Tim trusted him enough to let him see.

-0

“So then Ives—oh, Dana, can you pass the bread? thanks—Ives ended up rolling a Nat 20 on persuasion, which completely messed with my pla—”

“Alright, alright, I’m about tapped out on Witches & Wizards—” Jack interrupted, his hands raised in a timeout gesture.

“Jack!” Dana admonished.

“It’s actually Wizards & Warlocks, Dad.”

“Whatever it’s called! There’s only so much of this I can hear before my brain rots.”

Tim forced an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Dad.”

Jack waved away the apology with his buttered roll. “Forget about it. Hey, how’s your school’s basketball team this year? I was thinking we would go to the game this Friday, just the two of us.”

“Oh,” Tim said, “I don’t really know. Umm… what time is the game? Because I already made plans to go see a movie with Conner on Friday before he has to go away for the weekend for some family stuff.”

Jack frowned and Tim found himself straightening up involuntarily. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with that Conner kid. What’s up with that?” he asked accusatorily.

Wary of stumbling into a trap he couldn’t see, Tim tried to feign a casualness he didn’t feel. “I don’t know, I guess I just realized we have a lot in common, but I hang out with a lot of people. Why do you ask?”

This apparently wasn’t enough for Jack because he didn’t let it go, even putting his fork down so he could make sure his full attention was on Tim. “You don’t though! You almost never talk about Bernard anymore, or that Darla girl! The wizards thing was weird enough, but now if it’s not that then it’s Conner this or Conner that! If you’re not careful, you’re gonna give people the wrong idea about the two of you.”

The tightening in Tim’s throat would have been painful if it weren’t for the numbness he felt sinking into his bones.

“And now you’re suddenly too good to hang out with your dad anymore? I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I’m concerned about the person you’re becoming lately.”

“No! No, Dad it’s not like that—”

Tim looked at a wide-eyed Dana desperately for help. Ever ready to defend Tim when he needed, Dana didn’t disappoint.

“Oh, Jack, honey,” she laughed a little too loudly, “leave the poor boy be. He’s a good kid, and it’s healthy for a teenage boy to want to spend more time with his friends! I don’t see the harm in it. Honestly, shouldn’t we be proud of him for honoring his commitments?”

Jack’s glare was as hard as steel and just as cold. “Don’t tell me what I should and shouldn’t be proud of. I think I know how to parent my son.”

Dana broke eye-contact first, and Jack seemed to be the only one immune to the rising tension. Eventually he paused his meal consideringly. “Though I suppose you do have a point, Dana. Tim and I will just have to go to the next game, hmm?”

Grateful for the out, Tim nodded quickly. “Sounds great, Dad.”

-0

Tim had been looking forward to seeing this movie since he’d seen the first preview, but he hadn’t been paying attention at all for the last ten minutes. Oh well, he could come back and watch it again later, maybe with the guys in his W&W group.

In the meantime, it was definitely worth the sacrifice. Kissing Conner in the back row of the theatre, Tim had never felt more like a normal teenager in his life. This might be just as fun as running over rooftops.

-0

Conner swung Tim’s hand back and forth between them as they walked, feeling a bit like a little kid. Most people probably would have been on edge walking through the streets of Gotham right after sunset, but most people weren’t literally bulletproof.

As it was, Conner would have been content to stay out there all night if it meant he got to keep holding Tim’s hand while he chattered about the photos he had taken on their last outing to the botanical gardens and how they had turned out. Conner had learned more about camera lenses in the last ten minutes than he had in his life, and he was loving it.

Unfortunately, the Titans would be expecting him in an hour or so, and Tim’s dad would probably take exception to his son being out all night under mysterious circumstances. So, it was with a heavy sigh that Conner finally arrived at the Drake’s brownstone.

The boys came to a stop before reaching the front steps, neither ready for the night to end. Conner leaned forward to press his forehead to rest against Tim’s.

“You know,” he whispered, “I know I said I wanted Robin to come back to the Titans —and don’t get me wrong, I would still love that— but I’m also kinda loving having you all to myself.”

Tim chuckled and when that laugh turned into a crooked grin that made Conner’s stomach flutter, he couldn’t resist kissing it back off.

WHAM

Tim and Conner jumped apart as the door to the brownstone slammed open. Jack glared down at them.

“Tim. Get in this house, right now.” When Tim hesitated to move, Jack’s tone only grew even more demanding. “I said get in this house Timothy Jackson Drake.”

The sound of his full name seemed to spark Tim back to life, as he scrambled back towards the house. Conner gently caught one of Tim’s hands just before he was out of reach, and the other boy looked at him like a started deer.

“Do you want me to…” Conner trailed off with a meaningful hand wave at the side of his head. Do you want me to listen in, he was asking.

Tim thought about it for a second before shaking his head. “But maybe don’t go far?”

Conner nodded decisively before meeting Jack’s hateful gaze defiantly for just a moment. He shoved his fists into his jacket pockets before storming off to the corner. As soon as he was out of view, however, he took advantage of Gotham’s perpetual lighting problem to fly up to the roof of the house next to Tim’s, ready to be there the minute Tim needed him.

He settled in to wait, trying to focus on anything but the shouting coming from the Drake residence.

It was probably took longer than it should have for Conner to realize he wasn’t alone, but, hey, he was distracted. Sue him.

“You can come out. I can hear your heartbeat.”

Black Bat unfurled from where she had blended perfectly into the shadows cast by the air-conditioning unit.

“What are you doing here?” Conner asked.

Cass joined him in sitting on the edge of the roof to watch the brownstone. “A while ago…there was a killer…hunting the last robin. I still check in.”

“Every night?”

“No…but most nights.”

Conner considered that for a moment. “So, I’m guessing you saw…?”

“Yes.” Conner thought he could detect a playful edge to her voice. “You are not very subtle.” Okay, no, he was definitely being teased.

trying to play along, he bumped her shoulder with his own. “Well, we can’t all be bat-level sneaky. The universe couldn’t take it. Some of us have to be showy enough to balance the rest of you out.”

Cass hummed consideringly. “That’s fine. Batman will… train it out of you.”

Conner let himself fall back dramatically in mock horror, and Cass giggled. The sound did not match the mask at all, but somehow the juxtaposition seemed fitting for a member of the bat family.

“It’s how he shows his love, promise.”

Conner smiled, the tension of the moment briefly eclipsed by the mental image of the Batman trying to mother-hen a super. Clark would never let him live it down.

Suddenly, movement drew his eye, and Conner saw Tim. Ready to hear the verdict, Conner rose to fly back down.

“Thanks,” he turned to say, only to find himself met with an empty roof.

Bats, man.

-0

Tim followed Jack into the house, his heart pounding so hard Clark could probably hear it in Metropolis. His lips and fingers felt weirdly tingly before going slightly numb. His brain was going a million miles an hour but his body just felt slightly distant.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. This wasn’t supposed to happen at all. He wasn’t ready for this, it was supposed to be on his terms. But it was happening and it was happening now.

Jack stormed into the living room where Dana was half-risen in concern. She froze at the thunderous expression on his face as Jack being to pace the room like a caged lion. Meanwhile, Tim was a stone statue standing just in the room’s entrance. He felt a little bit like one of the artifacts his parents had brought back as souvenirs from their travels, just another relic meant to show off to friends that just ended up cluttering an empty house. And were Tim’s ears ringing?

“What the fuck did I just see, Tim?!” Jack burst out.

“Dad, I—”

“Don’t you fucking dare try to talk yourself out of this. Do you think I’m some kind of idiot?!”

“No! Of cour—”

“Jack, honey, whatever this is about, maybe we—”

Dana’s attempts to calm Jack only seemed to enrage him more, and she was cut off by the CRASH that came from Jack pitching one of her vases across the room. She froze, her eyes darting between Tim and Jack.

“Do you want to tell her what you’ve been doing behind our backs, Tim, or should I?”

“I—Conner and I--We” Tim sputtered unintelligibly, but Dana got the gist. She closed her eyes for a moment too long in sympathy, and Jack’s fury turned on her in an instant.

“You knew? You knew what was happening, and you didn’t put a stop to it?”

“Jack! There’s nothing wro…”

Her voice trailed off as Jack stalked closer and closer to her chair until he towered over her. She shrunk down. Jack leaned down over her and braced himself on the arms of the chair, effectively trapping his wife.

“Do you even care about what this could do to us?” His voice had gone low and picked up a dangerous quality that reminded Tim of the way Batman spoke to criminals he interrogated. But Tim had never been afraid of Batman.

He went on, his head tilted mockingly. “Or, are you just too stupid and selfish to realize how this reflects back on me?”

And, as he watched Dana start to shake, something in Tim snapped.

He was across the room in an instant, wrenching Jack’s arm behind his back so that he was forced to step back and turn around to keep it from breaking. The second Jack let go of Dana’s chair, Tim shoved him stumbling in the opposite direction.

“Leave her alone.”

Jack spun back around. “Did you just shove me?” he asked in pure outrage.

Tim’s chin raised defiantly. “I told you I could, didn’t I?”

At the reminder of the night Jack found out about Robin, Jack’s face twisted back into something ugly.

“So what?! I risk my life to save you from those freaks the first time, and this is the thanks I get? How the hell is anyone supposed to take me seriously when my son is—”

“I didn’t ASK you to save me, Dad!” Tim shouted. Years and years of bottling his resentment and frustration had led to an inevitable explosion, and Tim didn’t care who got burned. “I loved being Robin, I loved getting to help people, and getting to show what I can do. I worked so hard to earn Robin, and I gave it up to make you happy and I still can’t do anything right for you. I am so sick of pretending to be someone I’m not in the hopes that maybe someday it’ll finally be enough for you.”

“Tim—”

“No! It’s my turn now!” Tim’s words were acid. If he didn’t get them out now, they would burn him from the inside out. “I will never be the perfect kid you and Mom thought you deserved. I get that now. But I am enough. Bruce thinks so. Dick thinks so. And Conner thinks so too. I am more me with him than I am with anyone else. You already took Robin from me. I won’t let you take this from me too.”

Jack puffed up in rage. Seemingly having forgotten his lesson, he stormed into Tim’s space. Tim took a few steps back on instinct before he came back to himself and planted his feet, forcing Jack to stop to avoid a collision. Their faces were only a few inches apart as they glared at each other.

Tim realized he was almost as tall as his father.

Stubbornly trying to regain the control he could feel slipping through his fingers like water, Jack summoned every bit of authority he had in his body into his tone. “You aren’t seeing him again. This never happens again. Do I make myself clear?”

It was a good effort, but Tim had fought the Justice League. He regularly stared down the worst Gotham had to offer and said not here, not today. There was a lot he was willing to do to keep the peace. But Tim was fed up, and this was one thing he refusedto compromise on.

“No.”

There was nothing as immovable as a Bat who had made up their mind.

Maybe Jack finally recognized that because, for just a moment, Tim thought he saw something like sadness in his father’s eyes before they hardened like steel.

“Then get out.”

Tim blinked, his confusion enough to break through the bubble of anger that had been clouding out all else. “What?”

“I said get out of my house. And don’t come back.”

“Dad—”

“I don’t know who you are anymore. But you aren’t my son. I guess Batman ended up killing him after all.”

Tim’s eyes widened. He wasn’t sure whether it was the grief or betrayal that cut worse, but he kinda wished the numbness would come back. He drew in a deep breath, pulling what was left of his anger around him like a shield. Or maybe a cloak.

He spun around on his heel and marched back toward the front door.

The movement seemed to break the trance of confused horror that had held Dana like a vice as she watched the argument unfold like a demented tennis match.

“Tim!” she called after him. She reached out vainly as if that would be enough to close the distance that had opened up between them like a chasm. “Tim, sweetheart!”

Tim couldn’t turn around, but that didn’t make Dana’s heartbroken tone any less painful to hear.

He didn’t stop once he was out of the door until he was halfway down the street. And then, it was only because Conner landed right in front of him.

“Hey, what happened?”

Tim couldn’t answer. He couldn’t make eye contact right now either. But Conner didn’t press him.

“Okay,” he reassured, “that’s okay.” He raised one hand for Tim to take if he wanted. “Can I give you a lift then?”

Tim took the hand.

-0

Tim directed Conner to touch down at the Manor’s front door, not wanting to risk the possibility of Bruce having changed the security codes by now. Even still, he was certain they had tripped some sort of alarm when they flew over the property.

He was proven correct when Alfred pulled open the door before he’d had the chance to knock. If he noticed that Tim still hadn’t let go of Conner’s hand, the butler didn’t say anything.

“Master Timothy! What an excellent surprise!”

Despite everything, Tim found his mouth pulling into a fond smile at the old man. “Hi Alfred. Is Bruce home? I need to talk to him.”

“Right this way, sir!” Alfred said, already pulling the door open, and Conner allowed himself to be pulled along with nothing but a supportive hand squeeze.

Tim felt his heart pounding as he followed Alfred towards what he quickly realized was Bruce’s study. Suddenly unable to bear the silence anymore, Tim burst out: “Alfred, have you met Conner?”

Alfred’s face twitched into what only the bats would recognize as the butler suppressing a fond smile of his own. “I have not, sir. Though I must admit I had guessed.” Addressing Conner directly this time, Alfred continued, “My name is Alfred Pennyworth. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Kent.”

“Oh, uh…” Conner stammered before Martha Kent’s training kicked in. “It’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Pennyworth.”

Alfred hmmd approvingly but left it there. Luckily, Tim was saved from further attempts at small talk by their arrival at the study doors. Alfred bid them goodbye before slipping away with a subtlety Conner had only thought attainable by bats.

Tim drew in a deep breath before knocking hesitatingly on the ornate doors. The “come in!’ came barely a moment later, and Tim pushed them open with the resignation of a convict approaching the gallows.

On any other day, Conner would have been looking around at anything and everything in the office appreciatively. But today he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Tim who had gone ramrod straight, his own gaze locked onto the man standing up from his desk at the other end of the room.

Bruce Wayne rose from his desk, in that moment somehow managing to look twice as intimidating in a tailored suit as he ever did as Batman. His eyes roved over both boys, taking in everything from their still intertwined hands to Conner’s civilian garb to the way Tim looked like he might be on the verge of passing out. His face was inscrutable the whole time.

Eventually, Bruce’s gaze met Conner’s own defiant glare. “So…” he drawled in perfect deadpan, “are the glasses genetic, or is the entire caped community conspiring to drive me prematurely gray.”

Tim let out a sudden laugh so strangled Conner was mildly concerned he was choking. Conner could empathize.

Apparently amused by their reaction, the Batman smirked,and Conner’s soul left his body for a moment.

When it became clear that they weren’t going to say anything on their own, Bruce continued. “Well, Conner, something tells me that Tim and I need to have a conversation. Will you be joining us, or do you have somewhere to be,” he asked mildly.

Conner gave Tim a sideways glance, under no delusions about who’s comfort Bruce was really concerned with here. Tim squeezed Conner’s hand one more time before finally letting go, and Conner took that as the dismissal it was.

“Actually, sir, I think better head to San Francisco before Victor starts to wonder where I am.”

Bruce nodded turned his attention to Tim. Conner made sure to supportively squeeze Tim’s shoulder back on his way out. He tried to ignore the part of himself that made him feel like he was abandoning Tim to the lions.

-0

Once Conner had pulled the door shut behind him, Bruce let go of the bit of Batman that had made its appearance the minute the proximity alarms had let him know that someone had flown over the property boundaries.

“Tim.”

Tim still wasn’t making eye contact, his gaze getting no closer than Bruce’s mouth. Bruce resisted the instinct to drop into the Batman voice. While it would be a sure-fire way to get Tim to look at him, it also would do nothing to actually make the kid more comfortable. Tim would assume that it meant he’d done something wrong, and that would just make everything ten times worse.

Instead, Bruce fought to keep his tone as even and gentle as possible. “How about we sit down,” he asked with a gesture toward the twin armchairs by the fire.

Tim nodded stiffly but still wouldn’t speak. Bruce held in his sigh. Just as he reached his own chair, there was another knock on the door, and Alfred pushed his way in without waiting for a response.

“Forgive me for interrupting, Master Bruce, but I thought some soothing tea might be helpful.”

Bruce smiled at the older man. “Thank you, Alfred. That would be great.”

Alfred nodded and brought his tray over to the side table before pouring each of them a cup. As he turned to leave, Tim’s quiet “thanks” was almost inaudible, but Alfred caught it anyway.

“You are most welcome, young man” he replied, making sure to send Bruce a pointed don’t screw this up glance on his way out.

Bruce settled down into the chair next to Tim, their knees almost close enough to touch. Tim’s hands were wrapped so tightly around his teacup that Bruce worried he might shatter it, but he didn’t take so much as a sip.

“Tim. Can you tell me what’s going on, son?”

Tim finally looked up from his cup again, his gaze settling on Bruce’s mouth again.

“I’m not really sure where to start.”

Okay, Bruce could work with that. “Does your Dad know where you are right now?”

Tim snorted humorlessly. “I really don’t think he gives a shit where I am or what I do at this point. He—” Tim broke off to clear his throat before trying again. “He kicked me out.”

There was pure defeat in Tim’s voice, as if he’d always known it was a matter of time, but he still managed to be disappointed anyway. That more than anything filled Bruce with a level of rage rare even for him while simultaneously breaking his heart.

Not trusting himself to speak at first, Bruce instead gently pulled the poor teacup out of Tim’s grasp and took his hands in his own. Tim’s fingers were trembling.

“Because he found out about you and Conner?” he clarified softly, not wanting to risk a faulty assumption when everything was so fragile.

Tim nodded again anyway. “We fought about some other stuff too, but… yeah, it was mostly about that. He saw us together, and—”

Again, Bruce really wanted to shake Jack Drake senseless. It was bad enough he always seemed to take this wonderful kid for granted, but to see a father intentionally hurt his child over something so inconsequential? It was unforgiveable.

“I’m so sorry, Tim. I know how much you wanted this to work out.”

Tim’s eyes filled with tears, and Bruce was pulling him against his chest even before he consciously recognized what he was seeing. As his son fell apart in his arms, Bruce found tears coming to his own eyes as well.

It had always been obvious how desperate Tim was for his father’s affection and approval after being starved for it for so many years. This was the final deathblow to the hope that one day it would be enough.

So, Bruce held his son, running his fingers through his hair. Eventually, Tim had cried himself out and pulled away, his embarrassment clear on his face. Bruce pulled a clean handkerchief (courtesy of Alfred, of course) from his pocket and handed it to a grateful Tim. Once he had pulled himself together, Tim looked back at Bruce, finally meeting his eyes.

“Does this…Does this mean I can come back to the Manor?”

“Oh, chum…” Bruce reached out to cradle one side of Tim’s face in his hand, his thumb reaching out to brush away another rogue tear. “I promise, you will always have a place in my home. Got it?”

“But what about Stephanie? You already have a Robin…”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Well, first of all, your place in this family is not contingent on whether you’re wearing a mask or not. And I’m so sorry if I’ve made you think otherwise. You are just as welcome here if you never put a mask on again as you would be if you went out tomorrow.

And secondly,” here he grimaced, “I may or may not have fired her for putting herself in danger after I told her to stay put. So… Robin’s yours if you still want it.”

“And you’re really okay with me dating a guy?”

Bruce chuckled. “Tim, I’ve taken in three boys by now. You think I never considered the possibility that at least one of you might bring home a boy someday? Granted, I would have put money on Dick being the first, but the point still stands. It makes absolutely no difference to me if you’re gay, buddy.”

“Umm… I think I’m bi actually.”

“Alright then, but my point still stands. I trust your judgment, and I don’t care who you date, as long as they make you happy.”

Tim gave a watery smile. “Thanks, Bruce.”

“Anytime, kiddo.” Then fully out of emotion points, Bruce cleared his suddenly tight throat. “Now, mind coming with me to the cave?”

Confused, Tim cocked his head, but rose accommodatingly. “Sure, what do you need?”

Bruce shook his head as he spun the clock hands and opened the secret passage. “It’s not what I need, but what you need.” He beckoned Tim to follow him down the steps, which he did obligingly. “I need to grab some more Kryptonite.”

“Bruce!” Tim squawked in shock and indignation. His brain immediately went into panic mode, thinking about all the ways Bruce trying to shovel-talk Conner might go horribly wrong, or at least be horribly embarrassing.

Bruce turned back, completely baffled by how adamant and unexpected the refusal was. “Tim,” he started. And oh no, that was his I don’t know why you’re arguing with this perfectly reasonable request voice that always managed to piss Dick off.

“If the two of you are going to be spending time together in Gotham as civilians, you need to be prepared in case the two of you get caught up in one a Rogue attack.” He turned back around and continued on over to the vault where he kept the Kryptonite. “Oh, and don’t let me forget to give him one of these new rebreathers I’ve been working on next time he comes over. The last thing Gotham needs is a Kryptonian getting dosed with Fear Toxin or Joker Gas.”

Kryptonite in hand, Bruce spun and nearly walked into a frozen Tim who was looking at him with a dumbfounded expression. “What?” he asked, the smallest bit of defensiveness bleeding into his voice.

Tim’s voice turned slightly skeptical. “And that’s the only thing you want the Kryptonite for?”

Now it was Bruce’s turn to be confused. “Yes???” he asked, mind whirling to figure out what he was missing.

Tim realized he had definitely misread where this was going and felt torn between laughing at Bruce’s complete confusion and the urge to hug him.

He decided to go with the second one, and if Bruce still had no idea what was going on when he hugged Tim back, well, that just made it better.

-0

Conner was happy enough to take the call that saved him from having to help seed the backfield. He was twice as happy to hear it was from Tim, who he hadn’t heard from since Conner left him at Wayne Manor three days ago.

“Tim?”

“Conner…”

“Tim, is that…you?”

“It’s me.”

“What’s up? What’s going on? I hear gunshots.”

“Tell the Titans not to give up my room. Tell them I’m back.”

Conner grinned. “I knew it.”

[incoherentbabblings]

Is it too late to ask for more asks? 'Cos if not how about (separate pls), 2, 20, 43, 70, 77, 87, 95, 100 if possible? Thanks, I love your writing and all your AO3 fics, they are just so well written.

Last one! Anon I won't do all of these, as some were requested in previous asks, and I have written a bit too much over this week, but here's one last one for this fic game. Consider it a preview? A taster? A possibility? Of a fic I wanna write over the winter. Subject to many changes certainly, or not being written at all. I dunno. Anyway, last one! The fics from the past two weeks will be going up on Ao3 over the weekend, thank you for playing guys!

Birthday Ask Game

70. “After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?”

He found her in the library. He should have expected as much. It was where they first met, where they had spent most of their time getting to know each other. It was where Tim had developed a crush on her, guiltily broken up with his boyfriend, met her boyfriend, learned she was Robin, learned that her boyfriend was about six stops from crazy town, had their first kiss, first fight… honestly, how Miss Gordon hadn’t fired Stephanie and banned Tim for life was beyond him.

Still, his heart broke as he wandered up into the reference library, and found her crumpled up on the floor, tucked away and hidden in an aisle that was so rarely visited. She had a textbook of some kind open on her lap, and her cheeks were ruddy and wet.

“Steph…” Tim whispered.

She looked up at him, mournful but not surprised, then returned to reading. She spoke quietly, and Tim stood still at the end of the aisle, listening intently to her speech.

“You know, they once did group therapy sessions, at some Ivy League school, for people with narcissistic personality disorder. It took three weeks before their first names were mentioned. That’s how self-involved they can be. I mean, it’s not malicious always. Not in that group, definitely. It just never crossed their minds to ask what the other members were called. They’re not bad people. One person left and never came back because the group leader yawned, and they thought it was at them, despite them not even speaking at the time. They were so embarrassed at the thought that they were being made fun of. And we all think like that sometimes, right? That anxiety and worry at how others see you. But you try and remind yourself, the world and its people don’t revolve around you. You train yourself to learn perspective. So… it’s not that they’re bad people, it’s just… certain behaviours can crop up. And if no-one calls it out, or, worse, if they’re rewarded for thinking and behaving a certain way… why change? You know? It can lead to entitlement, and jealousy, and manipulative behaviour. You can’t control your emotions and how you feel a lot of the time, but you can… you can control your actions and behaviour. At least, that’s what I think.”

Tim moved to sit next to her. He closed the heavy book, then took her hand.

“You aren’t responsible for him. What he did. What he said. What he will keep doing.”

She nodded, gnawing her lip. She had a feeling Bruce would disagree. Weakly, she muttered a simple, “Yeah.”

Daringly, Tim reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He didn’t miss the way she leaned towards his hand as he did so.

“And no playing armchair psychologist Steph. No good comes of that. The guy is not your responsibility. Nothing you could have said or done would have made him… made him better.”

She screwed up her eyes. “Yeah.”

Tim looked up and down the aisle, hearing no-one else wandering around. “Did you come here for the quiet?” he asked. “Do you want to go back to your dorm?”

“I don’t feel safe there anymore.”

Stephanie scrubbed at her red eyes, and Tim's heart broke.

“Mine then?”

Her expression splintered, and she gave a horrible wheezy breath, air strangling in her throat. She gaped at him, disbelieving.

“You can’t want anything to do with me after all of this.”

“What? Will you consider me as crazy as one of your psychology case studies if I say yes?”

“That’s a shitty thing to say. It’s not a joke, Tim,” she chided. “Don’t say things like that. My ex, my… my job. You nearly died. For the sake of what?”

“For you.”

What he intended to be reassuring only further distressed her. “Stop it.”

“I’m not lying,” he urged, voice rising a bit too high. “After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?”

“Oh! Oh! Oh my God.” She began to fidget, tossing the book far away from herself, fingers twitching wildly and gasping wildly, like there wasn't enough air in the room.

“I’m serious!”

Her eyes, pretty blue eyes, were as wide as dinner plates when she responded, voice a paradoxically loud hiss. “I know you are! But what on Earth are you doing saying it like that? You can't just... declare things in that manner!”

“What? Honestly?” He watched as Stephanie got to her feet, marching up and down the aisle. She stepped so firmly she was leaving imprints in the stained carpet. He remained cross legged on the floor. “I wouldn’t have put myself through that if I didn’t think you were worth it. I love you Steph. I want to help people. I think we can do that together.”

She stopped her incessant marching at the end of the aisle, and looked back at him. The affection was shining in her eyes.

“I love you too,” she whispered, only to resume marching. “But”-

“But…” Tim quietly repeated.

“But you two need to leave. We’re closing in five minutes.”

The pair jumped, Stephanie squeaking, Tim leaping to his feet. A wheelchair rolled into view at Stephanie’s end of the aisle, and Miss Gordon was staring at them, unimpressed.

“Bad breakups and tortured declarations are all very fitting of this setting, but it’s past ten. Go home already, Stephanie.”

“But Babs”—

Barbara blinked behind her thick glasses. Her hair was sticking up at odd angles, and there were distinct dark circles reaching her cheek bones. Seemed she’d had a rough day too.

“For the love of God, Stephanie. There’s a nice boy wanting to help you. Maybe say yes and stop overcomplicating things, hmm?”

The two women had some unspoken conversation, until finally, Barbara rolled backwards, away and out of sight.

“Get out of my library you two! Come on lovebirds! Hurry up!” she called. There was a threat in her tone, but also something maternal and good humoured too.

Stephanie whirled back around, having been forced into a decision by the college librarian. “I’ll go to yours if you promise no funny business.”

Tim shook his head and held up his hands. “I’ll be saint-like.”

Stephanie narrowed her eyes. “You’re not a member of some weird cult?”

“Not even Scientology.”

“You’re not interested in me because of… my-my boss… are you?”

Tim clicked his tongue. “He’s more of a negative than a perk to being with you. To be honest.”

“And you won’t go after any friends of mine if we have a fight?”

“Friends? Not… not more?”

Stephanie pressed her hands to her mouth and nose, cupping her face so he couldn’t see her blush.

“Stop flirting.”

Tim took off his denim jacket, holding out the arms for her. “Can’t help it. I said I’d be saint-like, not made of stone. Come on, it’s cold out.”

She observed him for a short while, a tentative hopefulness in her expression. Tim resolved to nurture it. Slowly, she nodded, smiling softly to herself, and allowed him to slide her arms into the sleeves. Pulling it in close, she inhaled deeply. Tim grinned jauntily.

“Let’s go home?”

She leapt into his arms. He caught her and squeezed tight. It felt like he had been doing the action for all his life, so easily and comfortably she fit in his hold. He could hear the smile in her voice when she replied,

“Home.”

[aceofshitposts]

another shortish drabble that’s sort of part of a bigger thing but i’ve already got my fingers in too many pies. I also keep posting things to the wrong damn blog so there’s that. Anywho this has a follow up I’m planning on posting for jaytim week but both of them could be read separately lol. It’s more pining Jay cuz I’m predictable as fuck but now featuring special guests: Stephanie and Cass.

ALSO! my inbox is open for sentence/dialogue prompts! I use them as warmups if anyone’s interested :)

-

Stephanie’s apartment is your average, shitty Gotham affair. The kitchen is jammed into the corner right beside the front door and the living room crowded with a couch and coffee table that is currently pushed against the sliding glass door of her equally shitty balcony. Jason knows Tim has tried several times to get her to move, somewhere with less cracks in the wall and a more reliable water heater at least; but Jason and Stephanie are cut from the same cloth and he knows that no matter how much Tim may pester her she will stay here out of pure spite until she damn well decides otherwise herself.

Despite the ramshackle appearance, the apartment is currently crowded with laughter as Tim spins Stephanie around the cleared space of the living room, Cass randomly picking music for them to dance to from the spot she’s curled up on on the couch. Jason opens the oven, thankfully cooperating compared to the last time he’d been here to try and make a cake, and removes the chicken lasagna Stephanie had begged him to make hours before.

“Don’t you dare dip me!” Stephanie shrieks over the sound of Tim’s slightly manic laughter as he pushes forward into her space, obviously intending to dip her.

There’s a loud THUD that shakes the floor as Stephanie flails and Tim loses his balance, landing them in a pile of limbs on the floor. Jason imagines if Stephanie’s lower neighbor is home they’ll be hearing about this soon.

“I told you not to dip me, dingus!”

“I wouldn’t have dropped you if you didn’t go dead weight like a stone!”

Cass turns her head to look at Jason, Tim and Steph still laughing on the floor, and says, “children,” in a tone that is both endearing and bone tired.

Jason leans over the kitchen counter, putting his weight on his forearms as he watches Tim and Steph begin to wrestle on the floor; arguing over who could dip who and whether they should test this theory at the next gala Bruce drags them too. Tim might know how to do a passable box step but Jason knows Stephanie would just step on his toes, maybe even on accident, if they attempted a dance. Jason hasn’t been to one of those fancy parties in years, being legally dead will do that to you, but part of him thinks he wouldn’t mind trying to dip Tim.

Just to see the expression on Bruce’s face, of course.

It’s hard, sometimes, when everything feels as easy as breathing to remember the road that lead here. Jason doesn’t want to forget, eyes drawn to scars he remembers tracing on previously blank skin on Tim, it feels irresponsible. The way they’ve all managed to match their broken edges and stitch themselves back together is nothing short of some kind of miracle, the peace they feel now was hard fought for and won and sometimes they still snag on each other’s barbs. Tim spent so long closed off from all of them, no thanks to some of Jason’s own actions. Seeing him now (they’ve stopped wrestling and are instead pressed shoulder to ankle  on the floor with their heads ducked under the coffee table, talking in hushed but no less giggly tones) feels like something Jason shouldn’t be allowed to be here for.

It wouldn’t be the first time he withdrew in a panic, feeling like the walls were closing in and the ceiling was about to drop. Out of everyone in this room, Jason knows he’s the biggest threat; the one least deserving of the peace they find themselves. Least deserving of Stephanie pestering him until he agrees to come to her shitty apartment and make homemade lasagna, the way Cass won’t take no for an answer when she decides they’re going to play rooftop tag after patrol, how Tim smiled when Jason had walked through the door with an armload of groceries.

They’re all misfits in their own ways. Even if things are smoothing out with the rest of the family, the four of them have carved out their own irreplaceable spots in each other’s lives. He might not deserve it but Jason knows now that each one would drag him back kicking and screaming if he tried to run. Tim had, quite literally, had to beat the idea that he’d long since forgiven Jason into him at one point. Sometimes he still rolls his eyes and punches Jason in the shoulder, seemingly having developed a sixth sense for Jason’s personal pity parties.

“You’re soft,” Cass says, apparently having moved from the couch to stand next to Jason in the kitchen like a fucking ninja. Jason is not ashamed to admit he jumps.

His eyes slide from Cass back to where Tim is lying on the floor with Steph and back again. Stephanie cackles and Tim sputters something incomprehensible in response, shoving her shoulder in an argument Jason can’t quite hear.

“When you look at him,” Cass clarifies because he definitely needs it.

“Uuuh,” Jason says eloquently, eyes roving around the ceiling (is that mold? He should let Stephanie know so she can tell the landlord), desperately searching for the exit to this conversation. He clears his throat, remembering the cooling lasagna resting on the stovetop, and raises his voice, “food’s ready!”

Cass gives him a look, the one of a deeply disappointed sibling. It’s a look Jason knows well. Tim and Stephanie are getting up, Tim punching her again in the shoulder and saying something Jason can’t hear over the pounding rush of blood in his ears as Tim finally looks towards the kitchen and grins directly at Jason. It’s a good thing he was leaning on the counter because Jason thinks his knees went a little weak.

“Don’t worry,” Cass says, voice firm but quiet, knocking her shoulders in his, “he’s soft looking at you, too.”

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hello Steph! First, thank you for everything you do for this fandom!! I don’t know what we would do without you!! ♥️ I am looking to start my first novel length Johnlock fic. I found your list, and was wondering if you had a specific one to recommend to start off with? I’m looking for something that won’t make me too sad (the world does that on its own), and of course, lots of Johnlock!! Any recommendations would be appreciated, thank you!! Sending love!! *hugs*

HI NONNY!

Hmm, this is tough, because Novel Length is anything over 50K words, but some people don’t want to read “novels that short”. So I get a lot of requests for Epic novels over 100K, so like WOOO HOO LOL.

Hmm. How about I give you a few recs varying lengths, based on your requirements, and you can decide how long you want to go, since I list all my word counts on my recs?

First off, for when you become obsessed with the lengthy fics like I am now LOL:

Novel Length Fics: 50 to 100K (Nov. 2018)

Novel Length Fics: 50 to 100K Pt 2 (May 2020)

Novel Length Fics: 100K+ w. (May 2019)

Novel Length Fics: 100K+ w. Pt 2 (Aug 2020)

Novel Length Fics: 100K+ w. Pt 3 [MFL’s] (Dec 2020)

Next, here’s something for each range between 50 and 100K+ <3

BUT BEFORE I BEGIN: honourable mention because it IS my fave fic ever, and it fits your criteria minus the length so SORRY but please check it out:

A Promise Made to Be Broken by PlantsAreNeat (E, 37,018 w., 7 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Pining, Slow Burn, RST, Eventual Relationship, POV Sherlock) – A young John makes an ‘if we’re still single at 40, we’ll get together’ pledge to a woman who ends up all wrong for him. She keeps reminding him of the promise, and won’t let go of it. John asks Sherlock to pose as his boyfriend at a family wedding, so as to dash her hopes permanently. Sherlock, who has at last acknowledged his feelings for John, reluctantly agrees despite knowing how painful it will be to ‘have’ John, but not keep him.

--------

Okay, now the main event, of more-fluff-than-angst:

NOVEL LENGTH NOT-SO-ANGSTY FICS FOR NEWBIES

Spare Change by Ermerness (E, 51,966 w., 14 Ch. || Rich Holmeses AU || First Kiss / Time, Holmes Family, Virgin Sherlock, Anal, First Meetings, Bossy Bottomlock) – The Holmes family is one of the richest and most powerful in England. Sherlock spends his time flying around the world on the family's private jet drinking a lot and shopping at expensive boutiques as a way of trying to alleviate his endless boredom. His mother decides it's time he settles down with someone powerful, wealthy and well connected. John Watson happens to be none of those things.

Guilty Secrets by Ellipsical (E, 55,086 w., 16 Ch. || Post-TRF, Drumsticks, First Kiss/Time, Love Confession, Self-Sexual-Discovery, Anal, Rimming, Orgasm Denial, Butt Plugs, Cooking, Furniture Sex, Bath Sex, Rimming, Double Penetration, Prostate Massage, Anal Beads, Dancing, Romance, Tantric Edging, Internalized Homophobia, Case as Foreplay, Anal Beads, Tickling, Dancing, Dry Coming, Romance) – John has a prostate exam and discovers something surprising about himself. Experimentation follows. Sherlock wants to help. They're in love. You know the drill.

Bridging the Ravine by SilentAuror (E, 58,887 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Couple For a Case, Bed-Sharing, First Times, Confessions, Awkwardness, Sex Trafficking, Massages, Wet T-Shirt Contest, Group Therapy, Past Loss of Child) – Sherlock and John go undercover at Ravine Valley, a therapy centre for same-sex male couples in an investigation into a possible human trafficking ring. As they pose as a couple and fake their way through the therapy sessions for the sake of the case, it quickly becomes difficult to avoid discussing their very real issues. Set roughly six nine months after series 4.

Perdition's Flames by i_ship_an_armada (E, 63,435 w., 21 Ch. || Treklock AU, Est. Rel, Genetic Engineering, Angst & Fluff, BAMF!John) – Sherlock would do anything to save him. Risk anything. Give anything. His money, his life. His soul. What he does, though, is change both of their destinies forever. Genetic re-engineering is the only option left. It turns out researchers underestimated the life expectancy and potential abilities of genetically re-engineered subjects. The British government and what would eventually become the United Federation of Planets, however, had not. Part 1 of PF Universe

A Cure For Boredom by emmagrant01 (E, 81,665 w., 8 Ch. || Dirty Talk, Threesomes, Light Dom/Sub, Sex Club, Experiments, Anal, Mildly Dubious Consent, Rimming, Cheeking, Double Penetration, Mild Kink, Porn Watching, Voyeurism, Masturbation) – They’d never talked about sex in the year they’d known each other. Well, that wasn’t quite correct: Sherlock had never said a word about sex; John had bemoaned his personal dearth of it on many occasions.

Uphill by scullyseviltwin (E, 84,945 w., 18 Ch. || Olympics AU || Sherlock POV, Skier!Sherlock / Medic!John, Rivalry, 2014 Olympics, Happy Ending) – Sherlock Holmes is striving for gold in this, his fourth and final Olympics as a downhill Alpine racer.

A Study in Winning by Jupiter_Ash (E, 106,658 w., 11 Ch. || Tennis AU || John POV, Dirty Talk, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Happy Ending, Sherlock Speaks French, Switchlock, Wimbledon) – John and Sherlock are professional tennis players and it’s Wimbledon. One is a broken almost was at the end of his career, the other an arrogant rising star tipped for greatness. It should have been a straightforward tournament. It really should have been. How were they to know that a chance encounter would change everything? Part 1 of Tennis

A Further Sea by i_ship_an_armada & ShinySherlock (E, 125,492 w., 23 Ch. || Historical Pirates AU || Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Doctor John / Pirate Captain Sherlock, Sailing, UST / RST, Masturbation, Action / Adventure, Mild Angst & Peril, Romance, Shaving, Molly/Janine, Bottomlock, Hand / Blow Jobs, Past Drug Use, Slow Burn, Mild Violence, Facial Shaving, Happy Ending) – Here be a tale of adventure for both body and soul, but beware if ye be not of stout heart, for this be piratelock, ya savvy? Luckless ship's surgeon John Watson takes a chance, and finds himself eye to eye with The Ghost, the scourge of the seven seas and a definite thorn in the side of the blaggard, James Moriarty. But when John finds there's more to this most cunning pirate than be meetin' the eye, he has to choose... is it a pirate's life for him?

The Horse and his Doctor by khorazir (T, 129,003 w., 13 Ch. || Horse / Vet AU || Magical Realism, Horses, Vet John, Horse Sherlock, Implied Alcoholism) – Invalided after a run in with a poacher in Siberia, veterinary surgeon John Watson finds it difficult to acclimatise to the mundanity of London life. Things change when a friend invites him along to a local animal shelter and he meets their latest acquisition, a trouble-making Frisian with the strangest eyes and even stranger quirks John has ever encountered in a horse.

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w., 37 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel., Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it's a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

Midnight Blue Serenity by BeautifulFiction (E, 151,907 w., 19 Ch. || Friends to Lovers, Gay Bar / For a Case, Drugs, Pining, Case Fic, UST) – When Sherlock infiltrates a club in order to track down a serial killer, his altered appearance is enough to make John question his assumption that Sherlock is beyond his reach. However, is he the only one who appreciates his flatmate's charms, or is Sherlock at risk of becoming the next victim?

Gimme Shelter by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (E, 159,368 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || 70′s Surfer AU || Period Typical Homophobia, Hawaii, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Professional Surfers, Gay John / Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, John was a Sailor, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining) – All John Watson wants is the feeling of a freshly waxed surfboard under his feet and the hot California sun baking down onto his back. To finally go pro in the newly formed world of professional surfing and leave the dark memories of his past behind him as he rips across the face of a towering blue barrel. To lounge beside the beach bonfire every evening with an ice cold beer tucked into the cool sand beside him and listen to Pink Floyd and the Doors while the saltwater dries in his sun bleached hair. That's all he wants, that is, until the hot young phenom taking Oahu and the Hawaiian shores by storm steps up next to him in the sand in the second round of the 1976 International Surf Competition. (PUBLISHED AS ‘The Sea Ain’t Mine Alone’)

Mise en Place by azriona (M, 161,004 w., 28 Ch. || Restaurant (Kitchen Nightmares) AU || Sherlock is Gordon Ramsay / Celebrity Sherlock, Restauranteur John, Harry Plays Prominent Role, Alternating POV, Mutual Pining, Cranky Sherlock, Bed Sharing, Slow Burn) – John Watson had no intentions of taking over the family business, but when he returns from Afghanistan, battered and bruised, and discovers that his sister Harry has run their restaurant into the ground, he doesn't have much choice. There's only one thing that can save the Empire from closing for good – the celebrity star of the BBC series Restaurant Reconstructed, Chef Sherlock Holmes. Part 1 of Mise en Place

-------

Hope you enjoy those!!! <3 PLEASE read them all, though, and THEN READ ALL THE ONES ON THOSE LISTS. Because once you start long fics, you get REALLY INTO THEM. Hah hah <3

[artxyra]

Healing Gotham | Part 3

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2

Bruce knew that wrangling his children an hour before Marin Etta’s arrival was going to be messing. First, they had to save the Gotham Airport from Clayface and that took a long minute. Bruce just hopes that it wouldn’t put a delay in his sister’s plans as he knows how much Marin Etta loves to be on schedule—little did know.

“Boys! Clean up that mess.” He shouts pointing to the couch that is upside down on the floor along with the throw pillows, the coffee table is sitting right side up clearing meant to be out of the way. While next to the grandfather clock, Damian is fighting Dick with a katana in hand. Dick is clearly trying to take the weapon away. Jason, Cass, and Steph watch on the sidelines clearly entertained by the battle before them. Tim was nursing a fresh cup of coffee this late in the day.

Bruce swears that between them all he will be gray before the age of 50 and that is saying a lot. “Alfred will be any minute with Marin and I refuse to show her this mayhem.” No one was listening to the man of the manor, though that title kind of belongs to Alfred.

“He started it.” Dick and Damian shout at the same time before glaring at one another. Bruce expected this with Jason and Damian (or even with Tim) but not Dick and Damian. He wonders what his youngest did to be tackle by Dick.

“Father, I refuse to allow this harlot, you call my aunt, to live with us,” Damian states causing Bruce to face-palm not even acknowledging that Damian had called his sister a harlot, but Jason did which then caused Jason to join the battle.

“That’s it, Demon Spawn, you’re going down,” Jason growls as Damian swings his sword to block Jason’s incoming attack. thus continuing the battle onto the floor.

“Why can’t you three be more like your sisters.” A migraine was growing, and it didn’t help by looking at the clock to see that Alfred would most likely be here any minute. “Cass stop recording your brothers and go help them.”

Cass shrugs and turns to Steph, who was holding in her laughter. “Send that to Barb.” She whispers in between snickers. Cass nods and stops recording the video.

“I am gone for less than an hour and the manor is a mess…not that this isn’t normal.” The voice of the butler freezes everyone. Bruce’s eyes widen in shock and disappointment. Shock because Alfred is back so soon, and disappointment because this was not how he wanted to greet his sister. Behind Alfred is the one person that holds him together looking more and more like their mother every day.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting this. Is that Dickie on the floor?” Marinette asks before walking over to Bruce, “Hello Brucie.” She greets with a smile. Bruce wasn’t sure what to do, so he wraps his arms around her and pulls her closer.

“I miss you, Sunbeam.” He whispers holding in his emotions. Behind them, the fighting between the three brothers had stop and Dick was bouncing in place. Jason look like he was about to pass out while Damian was glaring at the scene before him.

“Sunshine, you’re back! Now I have a real acrobatic partner to work with.” Dick exclaims rushing forward to embrace Marinette just as Bruce steps away. Alfred leaves the scene to go get some refreshments as dinner was only hours away.

“Hi Dickie, but before we could catch up, I believe there are some people that I should meet?” Marinette despite her small figure tries to look over Dick’s shoulder as she pats his back missing her first nephew as well. Bruce now appearing behind everyone’s back takes Damian’s katana and place it behind the couch. Damian elbows him in the gut, but Bruce makes no noise. He just wasn’t sure how Marinette would react to his youngest holding a sword.

“Yes. Mari, I like you to meet Cass…Steph…Tim…and my youngest Damian.” Bruce points to each and every one of them with breathing room for them to wave, send a smile, and nod (or in Damian’s case, glare) at Marinette. He purposely makes sure not to introduce Jason to Marinette kind of wondering if his plan will work. While doing the introductions, Alfred returns with a tray of refreshments, he too notices the lack of Jason’s introduction.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Marinette’s smile sends a wave of something unknown down their spines. Everyone san from Bruce, Alfred, Dick, and Jason felt that way. “Tim, I hear that you’re currently one of the CEO for Wayne Enterprise, I guess we’ll be spending a lot of time together. Cass, you don’t seem like a people person, perhaps a game of chess might help us bond, and Steph, I’m sure you and I will get along great.” Marinette turns to Damian, unsure what to think of her brother’s biological child. He was practically identical to her brother when he was that age (that’s from all the photos she had viewed) and the only difference was his skin was few shades darker.  She can also tell by default that he had a troubling childhood, something that was not inflicted by her brother or his siblings (her nieces and nephews). His mother perhaps? Keeping her wanting to squeal down, she sends Damian a curt nod ending their moment to which Damian huffs and looks away from.

When she turns to Jason, all hell freezes over. Squinting her eyes, she instinctively caresses her hand over his cheek. She could feel a large amount of darkness surrounding the male, but the look in his eyes said a different story. Marinette knew those blue eyes from anywhere. They were always much different from Dickie’s in her mind.

“Jay-Jay?” She whispers, her voice cracking never preventing the tears that were slowly forming in her eyes.

“Hi Pixie, it’s me.”  Those words solidify everything that Marinette secretly hoped to be true, but now she just wonders for how long? Embrace the taller male, she doesn’t want to let go.

Finally getting past her reintroduction to Jason, someone she thought of like a son she turns her head to look over her shoulder, her eyes narrow at her brother and oldest nephew.

For Bruce and Dick, they could feel that their lives were in danger. Alfred watches off to the side and straightens out his tie. “Run.” Immediately, Dick takes off running first. Marinette had fully turned around with a shining star of evil in her eyes. Bruce couldn’t breathe, it felt like his tie was constricting his neck. It didn’t take long before he too follows the same procedures as his oldest. Marinette was quick to chase after them shouting in a series of French some of which are curses.

Jason was breathing heavily his entire being was being questioned. To his remaining siblings, it was odd to see the person that tried to kill them act as if he was on the verge of a panic attack.

“Well, now that… is a family reunion.” Steph laughs before taking off to film the whole ordeal. Damian tsk and walks away mutter how unfit Marinette was to the family. Cass, on the other hand, turns to Jason.

“She’ll be the one to bring the light to Gotham. You wanna spar?” Jason wasn’t sure how to answer Cass’s request. He, himself, couldn’t breathe.

“Master Jason, maybe you should go lay down. I know this is a lot for you to take in.” Alfred suggests as the butler could see that Jason was internally battling himself.

Jason doesn’t answer either of them as he walks out of the room in deep thought.

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[therollingstonys]

Love Me Tender, Love Me Sweet

Tw: cancer, discussions of death, cancer treatment, sadness

Steph sits and stares out the window of the cabin, watching as it rains, the gloomy darkness of a fall evening making her shiver. She really shouldn’t be sitting with the windows open, she’s going to catch a cold for sure, but there’s something about the sound of rain and the scent of damp dying leaves that sends a shudder over her twisted spine.

Her hands move idly, pressing charcoal to paper to capture the way Antonia had looked earlier, reclining on the small loveseat in the studio with a book propped against her thin chest and a smile on her lips as she’d napped.

She’d looked so at peace it had nearly broken Steph’s already damaged and weak heart to have to wake her up for dinner.

She smudges some shadows under Antonia’s eyes and swallows hard against the urge to cry. She’s so tired these days—the chemo and radiation have sapped that vitality and brightness from all her smiles that had made Steph fall in love with her and Steph wishes there was something she could do, but this is their life.

Steph herself isn’t a paragon of health—asthma, congenital heart defect, scoliosis—but still, she’d give every ounce of life and health from her body if it would help Antonia.

Gentle fingers brush against her short golden locks and she shivers, turning a little to find Antonia behind her, fuzzy robe pulled tight around her too thin frame. Despite the smile on her lips she looks exhausted—deep down to her bones. Steph captures her fingers and brushes kisses across the pads, smiling faintly.

“Couldn’t sleep?” she asks, already knowing the answer.

Antonia nods and then comes around the chair to seat herself gently into Steph’s lap, curling up so her head can rest against Steph’s shoulder. She’s light as a feather—the chemo and radiation have stolen her appetite and her curves and left behind easily bruised skin that’s thin and papery.

Steph rubs lotion into Antonia’s skin every night, artists fingers gentle as she rubs it in to the surgery scars. Antonia is always quiet when she does, eyes closed as Steph touches the places where she’s been cut open and hollowed out.

Antonia had sobbed after the mastectomy surgery, apologized profusely to Steph for the radical change to her body as though it was her fault that the same cancer that had killed Maria was now doing its best to steal another bright light from the world.

Antonia had even tried to convince her to leave—

“I’m not the same woman you fell in love with Steph. Everything that made me a woman is gone.”

“Bullshit. Your organs don’t make you woman, you decide who and what you are, and I’m never leaving you so don’t you dare try to make me go. I love you goddamnit, as you were, as you are and as you will be.”

Steph trails her fingers up Antonia’s spine to her neck and shoulders and massages gently, smiling sadly when Antonia makes a weak sound and nuzzles her cold nose into Steph’s throat. The soft silk of her turban is cool against Steph’s skin, yet another reminder of all Antonia has lost.

When her hair had begun falling out she’d bought a set of clippers and given Steph a steely eyed look and said, “Shave it all off.”

And she had.

They’d wept together through so many stages—the diagnosis, the initial treatments, the surgery. They’d fought and yelled and cried together, angry at the world, at the fickle bitch of genetics, at everything it seemed sometimes.

Steph rubs Antonia’s back until the tension in her thin fram eases. “Let’s go to bed,” she murmurs, shifting so she can press Antonia to her side as she rises to her feet. They walk slowly, each step painstaking until they’re back in the bedroom. Antonia’s breathing is labored and her skin is clammy so Steph situates her in bed gently and then hurries to get a warm wet cloth to wipe her down with.

Antonia’s eyes are closed, brow furrowed with pain and humiliation. She hates being weak—she’d screamed at the sky when she’d been diagnosed, “I’m Antonia Fucking Stark this doesn’t happen to me!”, and Steph had been there to catch her when the strength had left her legs, both of them sinking to the muddy ground, sobbing at the injustice of the world.

Steph carefully dresses Antonia in a T-shirt and sweats—the hot flashes at night sometimes have her sweating through her clothes and the sheets, but by now they’ve figured out how to keep her comfortable. When she’s done, she slides into bed alongside her wife and holds her close, listening to her soft raspy breathing as she slowly relaxes and begins to fall asleep.

“I love you.”

The words make something catch in Steph’s throat, now and every other time they’ve said them. She kisses Antonia’s cool brow and blinks back tears, “I love you too darling,” she chokes out, tears slipping down her face despite her best effort to hold them back.

She thinks that maybe the end is coming—Antonia is so weak, so fragile. She stays up most nights listening to her breathe, her own chest stuttering when it falters or gasps. She thinks that when it does come, it will ruin her.

Antonia has been her love, her home, her family, and without her, Steph doesn’t know how she’ll go on. She’ll be hollowed out and left as half a person, and god, god she hopes the end doesn’t come soon. She doesn’t want Antonia to suffer, never that, but the thought of losing her is nearly too much to bear. It’s perhaps a selfish hope, but one Steph keeps in the deepest darkest recesses of her heart.

Please don’t go yet, she thinks as she listens to Antonia’s soft breathing. I need you.

There’s a clinical trial in Monaco, a sliver of hope, and Steph knows she shouldn’t cling to it, but she does anyway. All they have left now is hope and love and perhaps a little time.

Steph kisses Antonia’s brow again and watches her sleep.

For however long they have left, she’s going to treasure each moment with Antonia, paint her the splendor of sunsets and sunrises, hold her hand and kiss her lips and make sure that she knows she is loved, now and always.