#mentioned batfamily

[sevengraces]

someday I'm gonna be somebody people want

You, ch2, Title Card

AO3 Link

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Tim slowly stiffened as he came back into himself. He was curled up in Jasons lap, with his head shoved under the older mans’ chin and his face buried in his neck. His hands were gripping the back of Jasons’ jacket like he belonged there and there were half dried tears all over the both of them. Jason had his arm wrapped around him and his other hand was running though his hair. Casually, he pressed a kiss onto the top of Tims’ hair, still speaking softly throughout it all.

-or-

Nobody ever deals well with loneliness, but certain people are probably worse at it and certain people probably deal with it more often. Tim is of course both of these people.

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Hello, this is complete and I might just post it all at once, we shall see lol. First DC post at all tbh, and I've read exactly one comic in my life and am not likely to read more so if you are a canon type of reader then you might not wanna be here. All character and such choices come from the first Red Robin comic and fanfiction, that is it. The fic title is from Noah Kahan "Come Over" and the chapter title is from Dodie "All My Daughters" - I picked the songs and lyrics for the titles from a playlist I made abt Tim Drake and these were the best fits for the fic lol, lemme know if you want more Tim Drake song recs cause I've got a shit ton.

(also if you're here for my series in progress I'm sorry- I promise it'll happen just maybe not for awhile, it hasn't been my special interest in a hot minute so this is what you're getting rn lol)

CW's/TW's:

panic attacks negative self talk/low self esteem swearing vomit mentions of canon typical violence suicidal thoughts --- that should be all but as always let me know if I missed something

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Chapter 1- I'll grow the bones myself then, on my own again

Tim has pretty much always known, in the way that clever children tend to know things, that there is possibly something wrong with how his parents raised him. Objectively an eleven year old shouldn’t know to lie about who is and isn’t home to avoid trouble, but being alone suited him. It was convenient and necessary and normal and understandable and utterly, utterly miserable. But growing up a lonely child suited him in the same way that grief suited Batman, terrible but necessary.

Batman has only gotten better at grief and Tim thinks, as an emancipated minor in the silence of his blank apartment with big windows and echoey walls, that perhaps he has perfected the art of the lonely child.

Regardless of how suited he is to isolation, he knows he grows maudlin the longer it lasts. It’s a poor excuse for his weak will, but as he stands in his sparkling penthouse kitchen silently making his third cup of coffee this morning he considers.

Tim braces his elbows on the solid marble countertop with his eyes closed to the harsh fluorescent lights and the echoes of his mothers’ sharp nails in his arm and he considers picking up the phone. He could call someone- anyone at all, in an effort to avoid this sinking sensation he’s fled from since he was nine years old with nothing but everything he’d ever needed and a camera to keep him sated. Someone might even answer, depending on who he called.

It is ten in the morning on an entirely unremarkable Saturday. The sun is resting comfortably in the sky, his phone is fully charged, he knows where everyone he has ever cared about is, and he could call anyone.

Tim opens his eyes and stretches out an arm across the countertop towards his phone, hesitating slightly before making contact but pushing through nonetheless. He flicks it on and ignores every single notification with the heavy awareness that not a single one of them is from anyone who actually wants to talk to him, he taps through the apps before reaching the dial screen and he places the phone face up on the countertop and breathes.

He stands straight from where he had been bent over, carrying his coffee with him through the rest of the kitchen. He doesn’t open the fridge, there’s nothing in there anyways. Tim takes even steps until he reaches the far window of the living room where he leans against it and slides down slowly.

Once he’s rested against the floor with his fresh coffee cradled in his hands he leans his head against the cool glass and considers his options.

He could call Cass, she’d probably answer him. Mostly because he never calls unless there’s a world ending disaster, but she would answer him. After the hurried reassurance that “No Cass, nothings wrong- I just wanted to talk” she would probably let him ramble on about whatever he could come up with for awhile before she pointed out in that simple, honest way of hers that they didn’t talk like this and she knows he didn’t call just to make small talk. She would stare at his face through the screen and wait for his explanation, she would stare and wait for him to lie. Once he did, because he always did- what else could he even do? She would watch his body tense, she would follow the lines of anxiety like a roadmap, until every petty insecurity was written plain as sin on his face. And then she would accept the lie like it didn’t hurt, like she didn’t know. They would talk and maybe even have an okay time, then something would happen in Hong Kong and she’d have to go or WE would explode in some new way and he would have to go. Either way the call would end and Tim would be alone again in his pristine, lifeless apartment except this time someone else would know how badly he wanted to claw off his skin in the hopes of finding whatever was deeply wrong with him.

Tim laughed like a rusty hinge and took a sip of coffee. To no fault of her own, Cass couldn’t help him- he ignored the fact that the only solid feeling he’d had in days was that nothing and no one could help him.

There was always someone a little less discerning, like Dick. The man could flay him alive, but it would be entirely unintentional and oblivious on his part. He could call Dick and he might answer. Of course it was a Saturday morning so he was probably either asleep or with Damian, and Tim didn’t want to wake him up or deal with the building tension as he waited for Dick to hang up because the demon brat needed something at that exact minute. There was the chance he was hanging out by himself at his own apartment in Bludhaven, but even Tim could only intrude on the older mans’ personal space and time so often. No, Tim knew with a bone deep certainty that he could not handle this call going to voicemail or being cut short because Tim was the easiest burden to leave behind.

He carefully placed his coffee mug on the floor next to him and pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes, watching the spots burst into being and fade out slowly.

For obvious reasons he wasn’t going to call Damian. For all that he was eleven years old and impossible to deal with, Tim didn’t want to be the type of person who needed a teenager to regulate his emotions for him. The boy knew how that felt first hand- and even if he’d walked into Robin with his eyes open to the consequences, he’d been pushed out with his eyes a little wider and his chest a little hollower for more reasons than most wanted to believe. No matter how snot nosed the demon brat was, that kid had spent too long playing at being an adult and he deserved better than that from Tim, at least. Tim doggedly ignored the fact that he himself had only been a little older than Damian is now when he’d yanked on the mantle with two hands and the determination of a desperate child, he also ignored the fact that Damian would skin him alive for thinking such thoughts even tangentially to thoughts of the boy himself.

The seventeen year old grabbed blindly for his coffee and took a long drink. He had a feeling he knew exactly where this thought exercise was going, but Tim had never been one to give up. Not when he really should, not when it would’ve been easier for everyone involved, and not when it was pointless. He had been good at the suspension of disbelief long before he’d joined the crusade, and he was loathe to break a bad habit.

If not Cass, Dick, or Damian to call- there was always Jason. Tim choked back a snort and stared at the empty wall next to the front door, yes there was always Jason. It was maybe a little unfair to think so poorly of the older boy, but it was too easy for Tim to think highly of him and he had fallen from those heights a few times more often than he’d care to admit. It wasn’t that Jason wasn’t kind or even that he was unwilling to talk to Tim these days, it was more-so that he’d never stopped trying to impress the older man and peeling back his flesh to show Jason the slimy, unlikable parts and then ask to be coddled was a level of desperate that he shuddered to think of reaching. Of course Jason had never been one to coddle Tim in general, which was a generous way of putting it. But despite it all, Jason was a good person and lately seemed if not interested in Tim then vaguely affectionate towards the concept of him- he would probably answer on principle. But how was Tim to even start that conversation? “Hi Jason, I know we literally only talk when we’re working or when Dick gets it in his head that all of us being Robin at some point means something, but I was wondering if you would talk with me about something that wasn’t either mutually traumatizing or how much you hate me. Why? So that I can pretend that someone would choose to be around me, that’s all.” Yeah probably not the best idea he’s had to date.

Tim chewed his lips and pretended that his breathing wasn’t getting heavier the shorter his list of options got. He barreled forward with his mug between his feet and his head between his knees.

Alfred had never once refused a call, with the only recompense being the subtle implications that he really ought to join them for dinner more often. Tim could call Alfred and the man would answer. He would answer and reserve judgement, even more- he would be perfectly willing to bring Tim up to speed on everything he’d missed since the two had last spoken. He would fill him in like it was nothing and with no disapproval to be heard. Alfred was really his best option but nonetheless the boy refused to move towards his phone, still face up and turned on across the room. Alfred had never turned down any overtures of companionship, at least not since Tim had been allowed into the circle as Robin, but he’d also never really reached out to him of his own volition. Tim had always told himself it was the older mans sense of propriety, but what if it was that same sense of propriety that kept him on the line? Tim was lonely, sure, but he didn’t want to take advantage of the fact that Alfred had been attached to the Wayne name for longer than even Bruce had been alive and Tim had latched onto the family like a burr or a mold. The boy wasn’t sure he could handle being placated either, he’d met plenty of people employed under his parents and if today was the day Tim noticed how similar their vacant indulgence was to Alfreds’ steadfast professionalism he would probably break in irreparable ways.

He forcibly calmed his breathing and glared at the mug between his ankles. He ignored how that feeling from earlier had strengthened and barricaded itself in his chest and was making it hard to focus on his heartbeats.

There was Stephanie, one of his oldest and long-lasting companions. He could call her but she was pretty likely to be busy and thus not answer or be rightfully angry and thus not answer. He would have no way of knowing except that he knew which one was most likely if only based on historical precedence. He had been a bad boyfriend but a better friend- that of course didn’t mean much, it wasn’t a particularly hard bar to clear after all. Even disregarding all of their history, Tim hadn’t really spoken to Steph since blowing into town with ninjas on his heels and animosity between them a mile wide. They still hadn’t really sat down and talked about everything from her death, the gang war, and his radio silence during his search for Bruce. It felt wrong to call her up like none of that had happened and she still wanted him around as anything other than a competent yet obnoxious coworker.

The thought of Steph ached like a bruise and that pain only compounded the marching drumbeat in his chest that called out in gleeful tones "Not wanted, not wanted" and so Tim snuffed it like the wick of a bomb and moved onward once more.

Babs was always available, somehow. She made a point to keep a line open for any capes in the Gotham area no matter how frosty the personal relationship had gotten. But that was for professional things, and Tim didn’t know if he could deal with reaching out to her for comfort only for her to remind him exactly how they’d left things. He’d had a case related theory- Bruce wasn’t dead. Dick had disagreed, Barbara had disagreed, everyone had disagreed. Tim had pushed and Dick had taken it both personally and poorly, that moved things from a professional dispute between allies to a personal spat between the nosy neighbor and her long time closest companion. There was no version of reality where Babs chose Tim over Dick, honestly there probably wasn’t a version of reality where anyone chose Tim over anyone they even vaguely liked- let alone loved. It would be absurd to expect her to push past how he’d hurt Dick, even though he’d been right, and it was impossible for Tim to push past how she’d left him to fend for himself out of spite despite the fact that he should’ve expected it and known better.

Tim was trying hard not to catastrophize, he knew that was what it was actually called when he came up with one thousand plans with ten backup versions each, but it was so tempting to script his conversations so that nothing could go wrong. It was nearly fool proof and most of the time it felt like it was almost worth the consequence of looking in the mirror and having his gaze drawn to how his mothers eyes and bone structure fit comfortably on his face. There was always the chance that someone would see his railroading for what it was, but Young JustUs and Steph had been the only people to do so in any meaningful way.

There was nothing stopping him from call Kon, Bart, or Cassie. Well, that was almost true- Kon would answer but he had better things to do than hold his hand through the consequences of his self-imposed isolation. The super was just barely on good terms with Clark and testing the waters of a brotherly relationship with Jon- he had actual, real problems to deal with that didn’t have anything to do with the sort of best friend that had gone insane when he died and tried to clone him back to life. Bart was in a similar boat in that he definitely shouldn’t have to help someone who was somehow less emotionally adjusted than him handle reality. The speedster was beginning to settle back into this time period, and seemed to be believing in the permanence of it in a way he hadn’t before he’d died. Tim didn’t need to shake that up just because he was coping poorly with his own decisions. Cassie was an entirely different situation that Tim was in no way equipped to handle with competency. How do you ask your ex-girlfried/bestfriend/group life partner to tell you she still cares about you when your last proper conversation was her telling you how insane you’d gone and you telling her that you didn’t need her anymore- you don’t, that’s how.

Even though Young JustUs had been prepared to be together until the heat death of the universe, Tim should’ve known better than to hang his hopes on something as flimsy as that. People simply didn’t stay with Tim, which was something he’d learned at the age of ten when his parents had skipped every holiday that year (and his birthday) without comment or apology, he just knew that ten year old would be embarrassed at how far he’d fallen just because some people had been nice to him for a little while. He should’ve known better then and he did know better now.

Bruce was alive and in the correct time so he should be an option, but even Tim wasn’t that delusional. The man was still settling into the modern day and his new family dynamics that had changed without him. True, he was Batman again and Damian was his Robin- but the demon brat still deferred to Dick more often than not and Dick was a little too smug about such preferential treatment to discourage it in any meaningful way. Not that Dick was particularly good at discouraging the boy of any behaviors even when he didn’t enjoy the results but, water and bridges and such. Bruce was chafing under his performative authority and thus going on some sort of family building kick as a consequence. He would definitely answer, but Tim wasn’t sure he could withstand any sort of relationship they built getting thrown to the side once this little tantrum ended. This call would mean too much to Tim and be nothing more than bragging rights or blackmail for Bruce, there was a reason he was the bottom of the list.

Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne was sitting on the floor of his perfect apartment with his head between his knees and a recently emptied coffee mug next to him when he realized, with a sharp exhale like a punch to the gut, that it didn’t matter.

He shot up from his perch, kicking the mug across the room to shatter against the wall, and he laughed. He laughed so hard he couldn’t breathe. He laughed so hard he choked and shook and began to sob. Here he was, freaking out in his stupid apartment in ways he hadn’t since the first time his parents left him home alone for more than a week, and for what reason? He had known this little spectacle wouldn’t mean anything but tears in the end, what was his fascination with self-torture that he’d needed to break it down on a person by person basis like it wasn’t a foregone conclusion as of four years ago when he’d wedged his way into this doomed mission with nothing but empty hands and spite. His sobbing picked up volume and his breathing got sharper.

In some distant way Tim was aware that he was having a panic attack. A pretty bad one, if the crying and shaking had anything to say about it. But in that same distant way he didn’t really care. He was watching himself choke on his tears so hard that he had to curl over and vomit on the hardwood floors and he couldn’t bring himself to feel any type of way about it. What did it matter if he choked to death on his vomit in this perfect, sterile penthouse all by himself? Wasn’t it a little poetic, in a morbid sort of way?

If it wasn’t for the fact that Janet Drake had no physical choice, she would’ve skipped his birth just like his father had- she probably would’ve avoided his birth happening all together if they’d had their way. They’d left him alone as soon as they could get away with it, and he’d wasted away his years waiting for them to come back and acknowledge that they had a son. Wouldn’t it be ironic if he died choking on the physical manifestation of his loneliness in an apartment that reminded him too much of his childhood home to ever be comfortable?

Tim- not Drake or Wayne, just Tim-Nobodies-Son, spread out on his freezing floors and tried to breathe through the suddenly overwhelming urge to see if a second fall from a window would do the job. He tried to beat back the echoing voice that seemed to emanate from the middle of his chest, that had graduated from “not wanted” to “never wanted”, because he could see the next escalation coming from a mile away and he knew there was nobody there to stop it but him- like always. And ever so slowly his tears dried, tacky and embarrassing, and his shame returned to him like his coffee had just a moment ago.

He sighed loud and long, “What am I even doing? I’m lucky dad is dead- at least he doesn’t get to see exactly how right he was.”

As the boy kneaded the tension from his forehead he noticed a clicking sound that, in hindsight, had been echoing around his walls for quite awhile.

And then Jason Todd, in all his murderous glory, was standing in his doorway with lock picks in hand and an unreadable expression on his face.

[who-always-pays-their-taxes]

He might be 6’0 and built like a brick but i see the rage of a teenage girl in his eyes

[incorrectbatfam]

Bruce is constantly asking the kids what they like to eat so he can freeze dry their favorites into oblivion as apocalypse rations

[violent138]

Damian: "Red Hood has a pretty severe concussion. What do I do?"

Tim: "Extraction's still ten minutes out, just keep him talking."

Damian, urgently pressing the comm: "I don't want to talk to him, he's even more insufferable than usual."

Jason, lying on the ground, eyes closed: "That's funny Junior, because head trauma's the only thing that makes you bearable."

Damian, to Tim: "I'm leaving. It won't be the first time we've had a closed casket."

Tim, groaning disgustedly: "Robin--ugh, seriously, just stay there and keep him awake."

Damian, seething even more when he sees Jason's smirk: "Fine."

Jason, cracking open one eye: "Aww, are you concerned about me?"

Damian: "Shut up. The only thing I'm concerned about is our family's reputation after your public wipeout on that stupid motorcycle."

Jason:

Damian: "Are you still awake?" *kicks him* "Todd?"

Jason, grinning: "You said our family."

Damian, furious: "I didn't. You've lost more brain cells than you could afford."

Jason: "Wait 'till Tim hears, I think he'll want a group hug. Bruce is probably going to get emotionally constipated. Dickie would probably cry--"

Damian, panicking as he hears the Batmobile get closer: "Stop. Do not tell him--"

Jason: "You better erase every single fucking video of me crashing then."

Damian: "You have a deal."

[frownyalfred]

actually I think a lot of people whisper their confessions to Superman because they know there’s a — greater than average — chance he might be listening after all. wishes, secrets they take to their death bed, things they don’t want to be judged for but need to say.

and Clark takes it all on his shoulders with the grace he exhibits in the rest of his life. until one day that voice in his ear is familiar. there’s a heart, racing but beginning to slow. and it’s Bruce’s words that come to him, choked out between the sound of his lungs filling with blood.

and it doesn’t matter that Clark shatters the sound barrier traveling across the globe to a random alley in Gotham. by the time he arrives, it’s already too late. Bruce had chosen the last few seconds, knowing Clark would hear him. knowing he’d pass those words along to his children. knowing he would burden his closest friend with his last words, and still trusting (cursing?) him with them anyway.

[ghostiiest]

my favorite brothers ever

[sharksandjays]

tim and yj shenanigans

[farshootergotme]

I like imagining a scenario in which Jason, Tim and Damian are arguing about Dick and just keep trying to one-up one another:

Damian: I was his Robin and he clearly likes me best.

Tim: I mean, technically I was his Robin first. And that last statement is debatable (and wrong).

Damian: Tt. You were father's Robin, I was Grayson's only before the original Batman returned.

Jason: Oh, for fucks sake, why does that even matter? He accepted me as Robin first and gave me his old costume, try topping that.

Tim: Been there, done that.

Jason: Not first you haven't.

Tim: Irrelevant. I think being accepted as Robin and being his Robin first puts me above you both.

Damian: Richard made me Robin on his own accord, father's intervention was unrequired.

Tim: Do you think that maybe that was because, I don't know, Bruce was 'dead' at the time?

Damian: I don't see how that refutes my argument, Drake.

Tim: He didn't even want you as Robin, he did it so you didn't go running off to the league.

Jason: Face it, brat, Dick didn't have much of a choice on the matter. With me, on the other hand-

Tim: I can give you a list of reasons why what you're about to say is wrong.

Jason: Stop trying to be a smartass, you-

Damian: This discussion is getting sidetracked. I can win this argument with the simple fact that Richard planned to adopt me.

Jason: Get in line kid, he tried with me first.

Tim: Wait- what? Damian makes sense because Bruce... but you? Full offense, by the way.

Jason: I was a redhead and a circus kid, he had all the reasons to adopt me.

Damian: Todd, you're a brunette, you're spitting nonsense.

Tim: And you most definitely did not grow up in a circus. I've heard your backstory from Dick himself.

Jason: You had to be there.

[lovelylonelymoonlight]

I think we need to make dick a lil more unhinged like

Tim says bye to kon perfectly straight faced and devoid of emotion and Dick starts teasing him about his obvious crush

And then another titan is like, huh??

“his heart beat picked up by two additional beats cmon now”

[aus-for-shitsandgiggles]

Duke: I don’t think we can mansplain, manipulate, malewife our way out of it this time. (It a non vigilante problem)

Damian and Jason: Manslaughter

Dick: manwhore

Everyone: 👀👀👀

Dick: manslaughter it is

Tim: its time to girl boss *calls Cass, Babs, and Steph*

[thatsnotahoodjason]

my second fav batsiblings. they have stolen each others ex boyfriend/girlfriend and she has stabbed him... they're very sweet siblings

[sevengraces]

someday I'm gonna be somebody people want

ch1, You, Title Card

AO3 Link

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Hello and back again, I have the patience of a toddler when I'm invested so here we go besties. I could not bear to leave you on that cliff hanger for long so y'know you're welcome ig. Warnings are the same as the previous chapter so y'know feel free to go back and reread 'em lol. This chapter title is also from Dodie "All My Daughters" figured I should keep with a theme of some sort. Blanket notice for all my works btw, if the dialogue seems weird or off kilter it's because I am both of those things and have yet to figure out a single social interaction. If it's real bad you can just believe that they're both autistic, cause I am and that's why they're written like that lol. (I do feel in my heart of hearts that Tim Drake is autistic, but that's prolly cause he's my lad for projection so what can ya do. I didn't tag him as autistic in this fic b/c I didn't intentionally write him that way but again (!) I am autistic so there is a nonzero chance all my characters come across like that) c'est la vie tho so enjoy

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Chapter 2- Everyone but me knows how to let go

Tim sat up so fast he had to brace himself against the couch so that he didn’t face plant into a puddle of regurgitated coffee. Once he steadied himself he realized he had no idea where to go from here.

“What’s happening kid? I sent you a message but you didn’t even read it, and I knocked for like ten minutes once I got here.” Jason asked, closing the door behind himself and glancing around the empty penthouse. 

The younger boy took a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak, when Jason evidently spotted the vomit. “What the fuck? D’ya have a concussion? Did you even go out last night? Don’t you know better than to try and do your concussion watch by yourself?” He shot out rapid-fire. 

Tim stood shakily and rolled his eyes, heading into the kitchen and pulling out a towel and cleaner from the cabinet under the sink. “I don’t have a concussion, no I didn’t go out last night, and obviously I know you can’t concussion-watch yourself Jason- despite what you might think, I’m not an idiot.”

Jason blocked his way towards the mess and looked him up and down. 

Tim was shaking and pale. His lips were chapped and he had deep bags under his eyes, which were only broken up by the puffy red rings that displayed a decent representative of how long he’d cried for. His face was coated in those tacky tears and his hair looked like he’d been pulling on it for a long time. The boy was staring determinedly at the window behind Jason and he had the towel and spray bottle clutched so hard his knuckles had gone white. 

The man softened a little, “You get yourself sick?”

Of course, Tim just stepped around the man and bared his teeth in a bitter facsimile of a smile. “Not in anyway that matters Todd.” He crouched down and held his breath as he cleaned up the vomit, spraying the floor and scrubbing some more with a second towel. 

“What’s that supposed to mean Timbo? You’re either sick or not kid.” Jason sent another, sharper, glance around the apartment. His vision stuttered over the shattered mug, it was red and had writing on it at some point, but it was illegible now. 

“No, I’m not sick Jason. Did you need something- I’m sorry to have ignored you I was a little preoccupied.” Tim steadfastly ignored any tension in the room and walked back to the kitchen. He deposited the spray bottle under the counter once more and dumped the used towels in a hall hamper. Then he opened a nearby door revealing a closet full of blankets and larger cleaning supplies. He pulled out a broom and dustpan then turned back towards the shattered coffee mug. 

Once more the man stepped into the younger’s path. “Sure seems like it kiddo- listen is everything alright?”

Tim tensed even further then sighed loud and long. “Listen to me Jason, we don’t have to do this okay? You’re gonna ask what’s wrong with me, I’m going to avoid the question- then we’ll do that until you’ve felt like you did your due diligence. After that you’ll accept what I said the first time and ask for whatever favor you came here for.” The boy glared up at Jason and gestured that he should move, he did not. “It doesn’t matter and I promise, I’m not going to go whine to Dick or Bruce that you ignored my duress or something- hell if they ask I’ll lie and tell them we had a real heart to heart and fleshed out our entire sordid, bloody history to a nice storybook resolution.”

Jason took a step back and grabbed the boy by the shoulders carefully, “So you’re under duress then?”

He yanked himself backwards and let out a wordless shriek, before muttering to himself as he pushed around the older man and began to sweep. “Fuck why not, of course this is gonna happen- goddamnit, it might as well.”

Jason watched him warily, like someone watches a loose lion or a person a little too close to the edge of a building. “Look Pre- Tim, I’m obviously not someone you wanna be talkin’ to- and no one gets that more than me! But I can’t leave you alone like this, is there someone I can call? Dickiebird? Maybe Blondie? Hell, I’ll get the clone on the line if it’ll help ya, just tell me what I can do ta’ help right now, okay?”

Tim laughed bitterly, leaning down to pick up the dustpan then walking and dumping it in the trash. He dropped both items on the floor in the kitchen before storming into the living room and gesturing towards the leather chair across from the couch that he collapsed on in a pile of disjointed limbs. “Whatever Jason, you’re already here and this can’t get much worse honestly- so y’know take a seat! You need a drink or anything, or can I lay here and stare at the ceiling as I rerun my top ten worst mistakes and do the math to figure out how all of that ended up with us here in my shitty apartment on a fucking Saturday morning?”

The man in question edged around the kitchen counter and tentatively sat on the leather chair, “What’s up then? You said you didn’ go out last night, right?”

Tim muttered angrily, “I’m never going to live this down fuck- should just send a fucking group email and get it over with,” before rolling his head to stare at Jason, who had his boots toed off onto the ground next to the chair and a leg propped up on the coffee table between them.

Jason sat and waited through the grumbling, maintaining a faintly concerned expression the entire time.

“You really want to do this?” Tim finally sighed like it had been forced out of him.

The other merely shrugged and leaned back into the chair, “What else would I be doin’ huh?”

“Anything?” The boy laughed out before rolling his eyes and taking in a deep breath. “Fine, I’d tell you not to laugh but it isn’t like it matters, so here goes nothing I guess.”

Tim stared up at the ceiling and ignored how tense his entire body was, he stared up at the ceiling and ignored how obvious that tension probably was to Jason. “I’m lonely.”

The boy liked to imagine the silence hung like a gunshot in the air, but it didn’t- he knew what those sounded like. 

“You’re lonely.” Jason repeated with no intonation whatsoever. 

Tim shrugged and resolutely stared at the ceiling some more, “Yup, go ahead then let's get this over with sooner rather than later.”

Jason frowned and dropped his leg from the table, leaning forward; “Get what over with kid? D’ya want a hug? No offense but that didn’t seem like something you were interested in earlier.”

He sat up on the couch, “Jason don’t be an idiot,” he gestured widely with his hands between the two of them, “the laughter, the jokes, the- I don’t know Todd, texting everyone we both know and a few people we don’t for good measure! Whatever it is you’re gonna do with this!”

Jason stared for a long moment, “Listen- I know I’ve been an ass, especially to you, but this isn’t funny. You fuckin’ threw up because of it, you’ve obviously been crying, none of that is funny Tim.” The older boy pinched the bridge of his nose, “Why didn’t you call someone-  actually how do you get so lonely you puke? Is this something Bruce knows about?

Tim gaped for a long moment before letting out a sharp, angry sounding laugh. “This isn’t funny? That’s the line for you Todd? If I actually cry about it then it isn’t funny anymore, shit if I’d known it was this easy to get you to act like a person around me I’d’ve dealt with this ages ago!”

The older boy flinched back like he’d been hit, “Tim I-“

He was interrupted, “No don’t act like you give a shit Jason! Not even twenty fucking minutes ago you were calling me Pretender, this is the most you’ve said my actual goddamn name in the entire time we’ve known each other. You asked asshole, I told you- knowing full well the consequences.” He breathed heavily for a minute before continuing slightly softer, “I get that you don’t give a shit about me, not in any way that matters. I know you think I’m a naive idiot Jason, but don’t pretend you want to know for any reason other than having a leg up on this weird one-sided pissing match- remember I’m the Pretender, only one of us steals titles.”

Jason curled in on himself, breathing deeply before staring off to the left of the boy across from him. “Alright, I think I fucked this up- um Tim listen I sorta thought you’d just know since I guess there hadn’t been any fights to the death for awhile and we uh- coexisted when necessary.” He shored his shoulders and turned to look the younger in the eyes, “I don’t hate you, okay? You’re not stupid or naive, I uh- I thought we were uh bein’ friendly- which yeah I shoulda known better it’s not like I ever actually apologized ta’ you. Fuck.”

Tim blinked, standing up and backing towards the window side of the living room. “Jason Peter Todd this is not funny, you- you got your fucking blackmail I- what the fuck do you want from me? Fuck off, did Dick tell you? Was it Bruce? Surely you’ve got better things to do with your time?” His voice broke halfway through, “Who thought this was a funny fucking joke?”

Jason went pale, “Shit- no kid this isn’t a fucking joke! I- who would? Why would that be fucking funny? Holy shit kid,” the man stood up just as quickly, shooting forward and pulling Tim into a hug. “Shit, I’m sorry- I don’t, I don’ know what to do here kid, please.”

Tim bit back a sob, tensing his whole body away from the hug. He desperately forced out; “If this is a joke I need you to leave right now- please Jason, you win okay? G-good one alright? You can go and uh, and tell ev- everyone how I fell for it al- alright?”

He leaned back, holding the boy steady in his arms. “Tim, Tim I’m not kiddin’ please- I just, whaddya need ta’ know I’m serious?” Jason begged frantically, “D’ya want an apology? Cause I’m sorry kid, I’m so fucking sorry for all of it alright? You didn’t deserve a goddamn bit of it and it never shoulda happened, not at all and not to you.”

Tim shook in his hold, just barely whispering “You don’t mean that, Jason you don’t mean that okay? I was- I was a shitty replacement an- and a useless Robin that was- wasn’t even a decent placeholder for the next one okay? Do- don’t say shit like that to me Jason, if it was ever funny it definitely isn’t now, okay? I don’t know what you want me t- to say!” He whined out anxiously. 

If possible, Jasons’ face crumpled further. “No kid, I don’t- I’m not makin’ fun of ya. Don’t say shit like that Tim, you were a great Robin an’ I was lucky ta’ have you as a successor, okay?”

The boy collapsed, leaning fully against Jason as his sobs returned with a vengeance and his breathing rocketed up in speed. 

Jason pulled the boy into his arms and lowered them both onto the floor, “Shit uhm- shh, you’re okay Tim- deep breathes C’mon. It’ll be okay, c’mere kid I’ve got ya.”

Tim whined and leaned into the hold so hard his head ached, and Jason began to run a hand through his hair. “You’ll be okay, s’all fine. I know Tim, I know- it’s a lot right now. Just breathe with me c’mon in and out you’ve got it.”

Tim struggled and shook and cried for a long time, he tried to pull back from the older man but Jason just kept holding him and talking through the panic.

Eventually he began to follow Jason’s voice, managing a choked inhale through his sobs every now and then until slowly, painfully, the panic began to ease. 

Jason just continued to mutter reassurances like it was nothing, “There you go, there he is, you’re doing so good. Here we are, you’re right here with me and nobodies gonna hurt you, I’ve got ya kid- just take it easy.”

Tim slowly stiffened as he came back into himself. He was curled up in Jasons lap, with his head shoved under the older mans’ chin and his face buried in his neck. His hands were gripping the back of Jasons’ jacket like he belonged there and there were half dried tears all over the both of them. Jason had his arm wrapped around him and his other hand was running though his hair. Casually, he pressed a kiss onto the top of Tims’ hair, still speaking softly throughout it all.

He forced his hands free and yanked himself out of the elder's arms, nearly falling backwards, except Jason caught him easily. “Hey, hey you’re okay Tim- it's fine I’ll let you up just be careful.”

Tim scrambled backwards until he was pressed against the window like he’d been sitting earlier this morning. He scrubbed a hand up and down his face, refusing to look at the older man he’d just been crying on for who knows how long. 

Jason let him, hands held up in acquiesce. “D’ya need a drink? Some food?”

Tim kept his hands in place and firmly did not look at Jason. Reluctantly he muttered, “Water’s fine, there are bottles in the pantry.”

He stood slowly then turned around and headed towards the kitchen. Jason opened the  pantry door next to the fridge and pulled out two bottles of water. He gave the younger a moment to collect himself before heading back into the living room and dropping to the floor across from him.

“Here, drink the first one slowly.”

Tim didn’t look up but he took the bottle and cracked the seal. He took small sips in silence for a heavy few moments before finally glancing through his bangs at the other boy. 

Jason was sitting on the ground with his legs sprawled out in front of him, he had a second water bottle on his left and was leaned back on his right hand. He wasn’t watching Tim drink head on, instead staring out the window behind the boy with only the occasional glance to check his progress through the water. Stretched out across Tims’ floor, Jason looked so much like Robin that it hurt to breathe. 

Eventually Tim finished the first water bottle, and Jason handed him the second without hesitation. “Drink as fast as ya like, just finish it.”

And so he did, he drank in silence for a few more minutes and pretended that he had any idea what was going to happen next.

After he got a solid amount of water in him, Jason cleared his throat.

Tim tensed in a way that was unfortunately quite visible to Bats, but Jason soldiered on anyways. “Listen, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have sprung that on you when it was clear somethin’ was up, and I’m sorry for everything I’ve ever done that’d make you think I’d make such a shitty joke. I get it if you don’t believe me or want ta’ see me again, I just- Tim you’ve gotta know that right now I’m serious, yeah?”

He shuddered, and Tim winced. “I- fuck Jason you don’t need to- m’sorry.” He exhaled sharply, “None of this was your problem and I didn’t mean to make such a scene but you know me. I uh- I overreacted okay? That’s not your fault. You uh- you just caught me at a bad time and had to deal with my fits, but its no big deal okay?” Tim chewed his lip and shoved his face into his knees muttering to himself; “Fuck this is embarrassing.”

The older of the two flinched like he’d been shot this time, “Tim can you look at me a minute?”

The boy reluctantly looked up and Jason let out a wobbly smile before continuing, “Ya don’t need ta’ be embarrassed okay kid? You had a panic attack, probably two judging by the vomit from earlier- and that shit just happens sometimes okay? Especially in our line of work.” 

Tim shook his head and smiled tightly, “Not really Jason, I’ve kinda always been like this. But thank you anyways.”

“Tim, listen to me okay? Just to the words I’m saying.” Jason responded through grit teeth, “That shit happens sometimes and it isn’t your fault. You got that? People have panic attacks, especially kids in high stress situations 24/7 so this isn’t some sparing your feelings bullshit- when have you even known me to do that anyways?”

The younger laughed ruefully, “Apparently right after I have a breakdown in your lap.”

Jason snorted but shook his head, “I’m bein’ dead serious Tim okay? And-“ he hesitated but powered through, “I’m bein’ serious when I tell you I’m sorry.”

Tims' face went red and he looked off to the side, “Yeah alright Jason, I get it. I’m sorry I had a fucking episode all over you about it or whatever.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, “I’m not sure you do get it kid, but I can explain.” He bit the inside of his cheek and started, “I’m sorry I attacked you- each time Tim. You didn’t deserve any o’ that and I shoulda known better. I said and did a lot of shit to you, and I blamed you for a lot of shit that wasn’t your fault. I was running high and fast on the Pit, and I’m not sayin’ that as an excuse cause it isn’t one. I’m telling you that so you know I was dead fuckin’ wrong when I said that shit to you.”

He continued, “You’re not a pretender or a replacement or a fuckin’ placeholder. You were a damn good Robin and I meant it when I told you I was lucky to have you as a successor. I mean shit kid, even beat seven ways to hell on the Pit I still wanted you as my Robin.”

Tim hesitated and glared at the floor near his feet. “You- you don’t have to say all this Jason. I know you don’t want to kill me and I get that in your right mind you wouldn’t’ve attacked me. But-“ he trailed off before looking up helplessly and whispering, “you don’t like me Jason.”

He grimaced, “To be honest Tim, I don’t really know you. The only things I know about you are what Talia told me and what I’ve heard from everyone else in this shitty family.” Jason smiled crookedly, “But from what everyone who’s actually met you says about you? I’d be stupid not to like you kid.”

Tim curled up and grit his teeth, “I know that isn’t true, I mean c’mon man- who the fuck are you talking to? I don’t know if you know this Jason,” he began bitterly, “but I’m an asshole. I’m a petty, manipulative, cold-hearted little shit and the only reason Bruce has kept me on retainer at this point is because I’d be too hard to beat as a rogue.”

Jason blinked for a moment “Kid, how’d you become Robin? Why’d ya’ do it?”

The boy in question hesitated over the non-sequitur. “… I blackmailed B with proof of his identity and stole the suit?”

“Okay, and why’d you even do it? What was the point? If you’d known for years why then?”

“Jason what are you going on about? You know why, because I had to!” Tim snapped bitterly.

Jason snorts through his nose, “No you didn’t, Tim you didn’t have to do shit- you coulda gone on your merry way with your parents and your pictures.”

He glares belligerently, “No I couldn’t’ve! Bruce was going insane, he woulda killed somebody or himself- whichever came first.” Tim sighs, losing steam. “I had to because he would’ve proven the Joker right, he would’ve destroyed your legacy until it was nothing more than the last straw that ruined Batman.”

He smiles sadly and shrugs, “But why did that matter to you kid? Why not make it someone else’s problem?”

Tim sighs loudly and knocks his head against the glass behind him. “It mattered to me because my pictures of Batman and Robin were all I had- is that what you want to hear? That I forced my way in, not for any noble reason like /Batman needs a Robin/, but because I was a clingy kid who didn’t want to see his happiest memories ruined like everything else.”

“You’re selling yourself short with that summary kiddo,” Jason leaned forward braced on his legs, “I think the reason you took up the R was because you believed in what we stood for and you didn’t want it ruined for good. I think you knew that your pictures got you as far as they could and Robin got sad kids farther than they thought they’d ever make it, and that shouldn’t be taken away from them just because shitty people exist.”

The younger boy stared at his feet sullenly, “Who cares Jason? I was a lonely, naive kid sticking my nose in a grieving fathers’ business because I never learned boundaries- does it matter why I did it?”

Jason let out a sudden laugh, “Of course it matters Tim! You’re the only one of us who took up Robin because you thought other people needed you to do it. Dickie wanted his parents murderer gone and was willing to keep on doing that for others only after he got justice, I wanted to feel helpful and important even though I had shitty parents and a shitty past and then I decided I needed to prove what kids like me could do, Steph wanted it so she could prove to herself that she was more than what B an’ everyone else told her, hell even the brat wanted the R just ‘cause o’ blood ties and he’s only just now starting to do it to help people.” Jason ran a hand through his hair, “Kid you looked at a hero from legend who was goin’ off the deep end publicly and decided that it couldn’t go any further- and then you made it happen even when it was fucking terrible. You don’t do that shit because you’re a fucking optimist- you do it ‘cause you know what’s right and you aren’t willing to let shit slide.”

Tim opened and closed his mouth silently, staring at his predecessor with wide, glassy eyes. Eventually he mumbled out, “That sounds a lil’ different than cuckoo bird.”

He sighs sadly, letting his head hang. “Yeah, yeah it does kid. I was fucking wrong, okay? I was angry and scared, an’ I didn’t wanna admit that life went on without me just ‘cause that’s how life works. I saw this determined little wisp of a thing that looked at every fracture line my greek tragedy left and decided to do damage control and it scared me.”

“I didn’t ever wanna replace you, I wasn’t even s’possed to stay Robin forever- I was gonna give it to the next kid once Bruce found someone better or he got a little better” Tim forced out slowly, like he was tasting the words. “I guess Bruce or Dick didn’t tell you, huh?”

Jason cocked his head at the boy, “What’re you- oh. Kid I don’t know what they coulda told me that would make lying about an apology funny.”

He shrugged and mumbled something too quiet to be heard.

Jason stared at the boy, watching as his face slowly went red and his shoulders hunched. He forced out “Didn’t catch that kiddo” through some uncomfortable mixture of bemusement and trepidation. 

Tim squared his shoulders but stared at his feet. “I took pictures of everyone, obviously. I started ‘round the end of Dicks’ run- got all the greatest hits of Batgirl and Boy Wonder, caught a few good shots of Batman figuring out he had a child that he’d die for in real time- but uh, well.” He hesitated but pushed through like a man to the gallows, “Well I’ve got the most shots of you. All my best work, all my favorites, just most of my pictures- were you.”

The older boy nodded slowly, “Sure, I mean you musta’ been tiny when Dickiebird started out. It only makes sense that you’d get better as you got older so it woulda been odd if they weren’t Tim- what’s that got to do with anything?”

He shook his head, “No- I mean yeah I was like nine when I started with Dicks’ Robin, and I followed you from like ten to twelve but that’s not what I mean.” Tim shuddered and mumbled to himself, “I can’t believe you’re making me say it out loud, oh god.” He took a deep breath and finally looked at Jason. “I went out maybe once every two weeks with Dick, not because I couldn’t do it more, just ‘cause. When you started on Robin though? I started going out every other night. I mean fuck Jay, I used to only go out when there was nobody to notice I was gone and I was really careful about covering my tracks and doing well in school and shit- but when you started? I even went out the few times when my parents were home, I was so excited just to see you out there doing good.”

Jason let out a low wounded sound, “Tim…”

“Jason, your Robin was why any of that shit mattered to me. Of course I cared before, but not like when it was you.” Tim laughed self-consciously and ducked his head “I hacked my school records, convinced my parents I should go to school in town, I mean- Jason I thought of you as my Robin. I think I have an encoded notebook that I used when I was like eleven where I write, verbatim, /my Robin is the best hero in the world, Batman sure is lucky to have him/, so yeah you can see how hearing that you actually thought we could be friends might seem like a cruel joke.”

He blinked tears back rapidly, rocking forward onto his knees to stop right in front of Tim, “Can I- baby bird can I hug you?”

“You want to?” Tim asked in a quiet voice.

“Yes, absolutely”

And the boy barely got a chance to nod before Jason had him yanked forward against him, arms clasped so tightly around him that Tim could feel his bones creak. Jason held him desperately with his face hidden in the younger mans’ hair and his whole body folded over him. “I’m sorry Tim, fuck- you were a good kid and a great Robin alright?”

Tim pressed his face into the mans’ shirt and took deep breaths. Ever so slowly he relaxed into the hold until eventually; he didn’t notice the awkward angle, or the way his sweatpants were bunched around his legs because of how he’d been yanked, or even how his tears were leaking into the shirt below him. Tim pressed his face into Jason and gripped the man equally as hard.

They sat like that for a long time, Jason held Tim until their legs were numb and the floor was uncomfortable. At which point the older boy just barely loosened his hold, politely ignoring how Tim only burrowed further, and leaned backwards. He pulled the boy with him, until Jason was sitting in the middle of the floor with Tim tugged into his lap and his arms encircling the boy with only slightly less desperation.

Tim croaked out cautiously from his place within the hold but didn’t look up, “Hey Jason?”

“Hmm?”

“If I’d’ve called you today, and asked if we could just uh- just talk, would you have come?”

Jason pressed a kiss to the top of his head, “Yeah baby bird, I think I woulda.”

And from the safety of his Robins’ hold Tim let loose a wobbly, genuine smile. 

[flamingpudding]

That's our baby hero

Protective Amity Park Au but maybe not like you would think?

Danny's identity wasn't as hidden as Sam, Tucker, Jazz and him thought. His identity was an open secret, in fact his whole town knew that Danny was their hero Phantom, well everyone but his oblivious parents but they were a case of their own. The thing was his entire town knew about his oh so big secret identity and that he was the one trying to save them from ghosts 90% of the time as well as from his own parents crazy inventions at times.

Dash shoving him into lockers like a bully? Danny didn't look good and Dash tried in crude ways to give him reasons to skip classes to rest. It also later was a good move to hide him from snoopy government agents also known as the Guys in White or GIW for short. Really his bullying played perfectly into him finding creative ways to get Danny to skip classes for rest.

Valerie hunting him and other ghosts? Well she was hunting him in the very beginning, but then it became an attempt to make him stop fighting the ghosts on their behalf but in the end it turned into her trying her best to be the support to him that Sam and Tucker couldn't be in a fight. Let alone taking 'night shifts' from him so Danny could get at least a good nights rest every now and then.

Sam's parents the Mansons? Sure they didn't like him that much from the start anyway but most of their anger later stemmed from the danger their daughter was willingly get into to help their reckless teenhero that shouldn't be a hero at his age anyway. Let alone shoulder the responsible for their entire town at the age of 14.

Tuckers parents? They were glad any time Danny stayed over with their son, even attempting to subtitle convince the boys to have more sleepovers at their home. Surely being a hero with ghost powers and living in a house of ghost hunting parents wasn't easy on Danny. They were glad that they could give him some peace at their home. They willingly ignored it when Danny showed up late night in Tuckers room, getting patched up by their son.

The entire town apparently hating him with all these negative newspapers and comments? All fake in a desperate attempt to get the 14 years old teenager with a bad sleeping schedule and powers to stop risking his damned life, half-life. Surely if they appeared not thankful the kid would get the hint and stop playing hero. Like seriously he was a kid! Who's bright idea was it to let a kid fight these dangerous appearing ghosts?! Oh right the poor kids parents were incompetent when it came to ghost hunting and it wasn't like they could just up and do it without destroying the kids confidence. Plus the GIW were no help either.

Vlad becoming Mayor was not exactly their plan but they thought maybe they could use that as some help to convince Danny more that he didn't need to play hero for them just because he got powers now. That didn't turn out like they hoped and THAT plan was dismissed quickly. Especially when the GIW showed up. They learned their lesson sort of quickly after that, at least when it came to people from out of Amity did not mean well.

Lancer, at first when Danny first showed up as Phantom, had attempted to get into contact with the Justice League several times, so that Danny would actually get the professional help he needed and get some sleep at night as well as the time he needed for his schooling so that heroing wouldn't be the only career path he would be forced into. The additional point of getting the kid training too for his powers was also very tempting, there are only so many chemical breakers they could allow the him to break before they HAD to sort of ban him from touching them again.

But when the GIW appeared in their town they stopped trying to reach the Justice League. Suspecting that that was the answer they sent in regards to their SOS calls. Amity Parks protectiveness over their teenheroes that sacrificed to much skyrocketed. They started to sabotage the Agents subtitle. Always working within the limits of the orders and finding the loop holes.

"Oh but we did comply, not our fault that you guys tripped and let Phantom escape."

"Wupp, sorry I got that from the Fentons for self defence, but it looks like I need to work on my aim."

"I am so sorry, my car is stuck! See my tire is popped I can't get out of your vans way."

The fact that Amity Parks weather report was more a report on the ghosts, the Fenton parents and the GIW was all a tactic for them all to keep each other informed so they could execute any step to ensure their -by now- towns sweethearts safety. Even if they still tried to turn the poor kid away from being a hero with all the unnecessary mean comments and articles.

So when one day a hero from the Justice League showed up it was predictable that they all were suspicious of it. Even more so when that hero came with a bunch of teenage heroes. Apparently they were here to investigate a bunch of ignored calls one of the teenheroes found in their call logs. Some of the adults eyed Lancer who in turn was glaring at the heroes fessed up, he hadn't attempted to call them ever since they decided to sent the GIW into their town. Which apparently was more of a cover as these heroes showed an interest in the Fentons research of Ectoplasm pretty quickly.

Well now Batman and his flock of bats and birds were confronted with a very unhappy town that was apparently very protective of their hero and 'accidentally' continued to manage to block them from making contact with said teenhero. And who where these Guys in white suits that tried to suck it up to Batman? Better question why was the entire town suddenly hostile towards them when they started to look into the Fenton Family that had a connection to Lazarus Water?

Meanwhile Danny is confused by his towns newfound favouritism towards Batman and his entourage and how whenever he went to find out what was that about everyone seems to deflect. Even Sam, Tucker and Jazz were confused by what was going on!

[incorrectbatfam]

Has Bruce ever packed the kids lunch when Alfred wasn't there? How'd it go?

[Wayne Enterprises]

Tim: Finally, time for my break.

Tim: *opens his mini fridge*

*dozens of apples fall out*

———————

[the library]

Steph: *chugs a gallon of milk*

Cass: *bites into a bread loaf*

Barbara: I'm not even gonna ask.

———————

[day patrol]

Duke: *opens his lunchbox*

Duke: *sighs*

Duke: *pulls out his bat-skillet*

Duke: *cracks an egg* *cracks an egg* *cracks an egg* *cracks an egg—*

———————

[West-Reeve Middle School]

Damian: Kent, I will trade you your cupcake for this head of lettuce.

Jon: ...

Jon: Deal.

———————

[Bludhaven]

Jason: Bruce packed our lunches. He said we're supposed to share.

Jason: *hands him a bag*

Dick: What'd you get?

Jason: A frozen turkey. You?

Dick: *opens it*

*fire alarm goes off*

[wondersinwaynemanor]

Red Hood and Red Robin greeting each other seriously during patrol so that RR can give the coordinates of a homeless child somewhere in Crime Alley. as if they weren't talking about explosives the other night and Jason didn't teach Tim to bake the coffee cupcakes he loves so much.

Later in a few

Red Hood, crushes the bags of stimulants on his hand and throws them on the sewers: Get a fucking new hobby. These things are disgusting.

Goon, runs: Fuck you, Hood!

Red Hood, sighs: What an idiot- The fuck. Where's my other gu-

Red Hood sighs again.

Red Hood, speaks to the rest of the family through the comms before chasing the goon: The kid's got my weapon again.

Nightwing: Robin, what -

Robin: Negative. It's not me.

Batman, pinches the bridge of his nose as he sits on a gargoyle somewhere in Gotham and thinks, "Here we go again."

Somewhere at a rooftop in Metropolis

Kon: Um Tim, I know you have plans of destruction, but-

Tim puts the weapon at the back of his suit. and Kon wonders how do the Bats even have places for weapons on their suits?

Tim: Nah, this is a comeback for him stealing one of the cupcakes you like at my apartment.

Kon: I already told you I'm over it!

Red Hood, hears the conversation through the comms and screams: Like the boy said, he's over it! Give that back to me!

[frownyalfred]

omegaverse batfamily is great and I've read so many of those platonic fics, but imagine a universe where it's just omega!Bruce wandering around screaming "NO!" every time a random pup pops up and tries to follow him home. he doesn't want to nest with them. he has 0 maternal instincts. he growls when they come near him. that doesn't seem to matter, they still want to nest with him. lonely pups see this energy from far away and say oh yeah, that's who I want to live with. that omega over there who knocked out all of that guy's teeth with one hit. he looks strong.