#this is the angst reason why tim is red robin still

[brucewaynehater101]

Tim can't escape Robin. It's a self-inflicted curse brought about by his self-sacrificing tendencies, his need to feel useful, his continuous labor to Bruce, and the cycle of abuse.

He could be so much more than the mantle he chained himself to. Unfortunately, he hasn't healed enough to find self-worth outside of vigilantism and his ties to the Waynes. He also may not recognize that he's stuck in a cycle of abuse when he's (as far as I'm aware) only been hit by Bruce once. All abuse is horrid and has their own perils. Emotional abuse can be much harder to spot or acknowledge (especially when compounded by their situation as crime-fighter leading to easier excuses for drastic measures ["he psychologically tortured me to make me a better hero"]). Tim will need to willingly set boundaries and build his self-worth in order to flee the clutches of Robin. His love for Bruce makes this process extremely difficult.

Batman needs a Robin. Bruce needs Tim. Until Bruce can function without a child-made crutch, Tim will always be Robin (Red or not).

[rubydubydoo122]

As much as I hate to say it, and as much as I love Jason ToddI'm gonna need DC to kill him again, and keep him dead this time.

Now before you come at me, let me explain why I think this. Jason Todd is a character that while alive will always be connected to Gotham, and because of his differing morals with Batman, he will always be in a cycle of conflict with him. We saw it in UTRH, we saw it in RHATO, we saw it in Gotham Wars. Because Jason isn't a villain (I feel like in UTRH he was an anti-hero, and any actions that didn't align with the morals he set during that time is because he was villainized by Batman) Bruce's actions feel overtly brutal (batarang to the neck, beating him so har his helmet broke, chemically altering him to feel fear) especially since it's towards his SON the one he claims to have mourned. It's a vicious cycle that isn't fair to Jason, and it's major character assassination of Bruce. It's overdone and I am sick and tired of it, but I do not see either characters backing down from their moral stances.

Now you might be thinking, just because Bruce and Jason don't get along doesn't mean they can't make up-- they've tried. Multiple time. Every time Jason and Bruce take a step in the direction of being close to each other again, Bruce becomes a control freak and abuses Jason like he's his own personal punching bag, and there's only so many times someone can forgive someone before enough is enough.

But I still haven't explained why specifically I think Jason should die again. And it's because of two reasons. Jason deserves peace, and as long as he's a ghost walking on earth, he won't be able to get that. Also because it would make Great Angst. We all know Bruce would break if he lost Jason again. He's going to push everyone away, and if you're going to have Bruce push everyone away, give him consequences for his actions.but we saw how protective Dick got during Gotham Wars. Just imagine Dick walking up towards Bruce and saying, "It might've been my fault last time for not picking up his calls, but this time, you can't deny that this, is all your fault." "How dare you! He was my son!" "You lost him once, and when he came back you treated him worse than any of the loonies in Arkham. You don't miss him at all. You only feel guilty because of your goddamned savior complex. You only treat him like your son when he's dead."

and while we're at it, maybe Tim can have a complete crisis. He had to pick up the pieces of Bruce in the aftermath of Jason's death last time, and look where that got him. All of his friends and family died. He was never truly recognized for guiding Bruce out of the dark, and we all know that Tim is one inconvenience from killing a bitch. Maybe this is it. I actually think it would be hilarious for Tim to take up the Red Hood mantle, Only to screw with Bruce. Because he knows that's what Jason would've wanted.

Have Damian afraid of what Bruce has become in guilt. Have Damians castle of worship for his father come tumbling down, because Damian always knew his father loved all of the previous Robins more than him, and if his father no longer wanted them, what was stopping Bruce from sending him back to the League.

Like DC if you're going to use Jason as a catalyst for an event, kill him off again. last time it was on a whim. This time, do it on purpose. This time, give his death a purpose. This time, make sure his death changes something, because god, Bruce has fucked up so much.

[the-coffeeaddict-tim-drake]

Just a Kid Next Door - Chapter 1

Bruce is finally back from being stuck in the time stream. Tim managed to save Batman and his loved ones. Now it is time for Tim to go home and rest. But the problem is that, Tim has no home. Or that's what he thinks so.

This will be a multichapter fic on how did Tim reconcile with his family. It will be full of angst, family feels and family shenanigans.

Masterlist

Here is the link to read the story in ao3.

-------------------------------CHAPTER 1---------------------------------

He figured it out. Holy shit, he actually managed to figure out the way to bring back Bruce from being stuck in the time stream. And the Justice league used his plan to save Batman.

 Sure, the last six months had been hard on him – Death of his father and not-so death of Kon, Bart, Steph and Bruce – has definitely taken a toll on him. But on the bright side, he managed to save Bruce and all of his loved ones, right?

He figured it out, right? Then why does Tim still feel empty. Why does he still have the urge to cry until he has no more tears left, shout until his throat burns and pull his hair out until he has no more left. Why does he still feel the needles pricking his skin which makes him want to puke even though he hasn’t eaten anything in a while? Well, three days isn’t just ‘a while’, but he knows for a fact that it’s not a lot too.

These six months had not only been painful but had helped him draw a lot of conclusions. See, Tim is a detective and hence he rely on logic and proofs to believe almost everything. Even though he don’t like what he has to believe sometimes, but truth is the ultimatum.

His string of thoughts is interrupted by Superman who shakes the teen.

“Uh?”

“I was saying that J’onn and Diana managed to put Bruce in the med bay. We ran all of the tests and now are waiting for him to gain consciousness.” Clark says tiredly with an expression of relief on his face.

“Oh”

“Rest, kiddo. You look like you could really use some. I’ll let you know when he wakes up.”

“I don’t wa-“

“I’m afraid Superman is right, Red Robin. We will alert you once Batman gains Consciousness” Wonder Woman interrupted him.

“I’m fine” Tim hissed.

Why did suddenly everyone care about him. Didn’t they consider him crazy a while ago? They didn’t care about him when he repeatedly tried to prove Bruce was alive, and now they want him rest when he finally proved them all wrong.

The Kryptonian and the Amazonian shared a worried look.

“Look child, you have worked tirelessly these few months to bring back Batman. You are just a human. Your body needs rest.” Diana said, her voice laced with concern.

‘They’re faking it, they don’t really care about you’ Tim’s brain chimed. He shuts it down. He doesn’t really have the energy to argue back, so he lies.

“Okay, but I want to see Bruce before I go to take some rest.”

“Of course Kiddo.” Superman added.

Tim dragged himself to the med bay. He didn’t realise until now how much his body ached. He really want to take a long shower to wipe off the grim and dirt from his body and drink at least two cups of coffee to feel better.

‘Later’ he reminded himself. ‘Maybe Alfred would have made something delicious for dinn-‘

‘Oh’

He doesn’t live in manor anymore. All the bitter memories from six months before floods his brain. How can he forget any of those? He’s alone.

Wait

He is lonely. He’s been lonely his entire life. He had no one even when he was in the Drake manor, not even his own fucking parents cared about him. Then what’s so new about this.

Maybe, he is just unlovable. Well, that would explain why his parents left him in that cold Manor every time they chose work over their son. And the reason why Dick chose Damian over him and took from him the only thing he had and valued more than his life and gave it to Damian. And why Alfred did nothing when he moved out of the manor. And why no one did anything when he legally emancipated himself from the family.

And would explain why he and Bruce never shared the bond he had with the previous robins. ‘It’s because they were his sons, and you were just the kid next door who forced himself into the mantle of Robin’ his brain chimed again.

A tiny part of him don’t want to believe any of this. But it’s the truth. And truth is the Ultimatum.

He let out a long sigh. He doubts the bats even noticed he went missing these few months. Well, he can’t really blame them. It is the fate of Tim Drake to be unlovable. The least good he can do is leave the family. It wasn’t really like they considered him one anyways in the first place, but they mean everything to him.

They were the very few people who cared if he ate or slept, treated his injuries, listened to his opinion and made him feel like he was important too. Maybe that’s what Tim thought they did. Maybe he read all the signs wrong. Maybe they were just being nice to him. Maybe they were Pretending.

Gosh, Tim feels like slapping himself. Why hadn’t he realised this soon enough.

Tim took too much advantage and space. Forcing himself into the mantle of Robin is one thing but forcing himself into the family is entirely another. He became Robin to save Batman from destroying himself and people around him.

Then why did he crave for his love and attention. Why did he think that he at least  meant something to them. It’s all his fault. He was digging his own grave all this time. He had too much fucking expectations even though he knew the truth all along. Yelp, now he has to face the consequences.

But no matter what, he loves them. Loves them so fucking much that it hurts. He still remember what he had said to Ra’s before the old man pushed him from the WE building.

“Bruce might not consider me his son, but he is still a father to me.”

His spiralling thoughts came to an end when he reached the door to the med bay.

Gosh he missed Bruce. Missed him so much. All he wanted to do was hug him and never leave. But he knows he cannot do so. Bruce might want to meet his family first. Six months of being stuck in the time stream would make him want to spend a lot of quality time with his family first, not some random kid.

A quiet sob escaped from his mouth. He touched his tear stained cheeks and realised he was crying.

‘Stop crying, stop being so weak. Accept the reality and move on’ he told himself.

 ‘It’s not the time or the place to have a fucking panic attack’ he told himself again.

Wiping his tear stained cheeks, he opened the door to the Med bay to be greeted by the sight of his sleeping mentor/not-so father figure.

He let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding until then.

He smiled for the first time in many many days. Bruce is safe. He is no longer stuck in the time stream. Tim felt a wave of relief wash over him.

He might not mean anything to them, but they are everything to him.

[aingeal98]

Y'know this is a really broad question and (since I know you're more of a Cass/stephcass kinda person) potentially out of your wheelhouse but I enjoy your perspective on lots of Steph related matters, so indulge me if you will: any thoughts on the argument that timsteph is/isn't 'unhealthy' and/or the characters are unfair to each other/bad partners?

Lots of qualifying clauses in that question, I know, but it's interesting to me because I usually see a lot of staunch arguments that either timsteph is completely/irreparably unhealthy (usually with one half as more of a 'perpetrator' in the eyes of fans) OR that timsteph is exclusively a great romance and that their various ups and downs are either inconsequential or the result of OOC writing.

I think the question is mostly interesting to me bc I see both sides of the argument and to me it raises questions about when things cross the line from "a fictional relationship we're meant to root for that simply contains elements of heightened drama which would be considered unhealthy IRL due to it's fictional nature which we're meant to excuse/suspend disbelief for" to "a fictional reflection of unhealthy dynamics".

This is a lot of yap on my part so again, no hard feelings if you decide to pass up tackling it.

Really good question that I had to think hard about. Ultimately the answer depends on if you mean they're unhealthy in universe vs out of universe, Watsonian vs Doyalist. I'm going to stick to pre N52 only as I think from N52 onwards they were... Fine? But kind of bland. The writers had erased all of Steph's backstory anyway so they had none of their history and were just kind of... Normal dating. But pre N52 in the 90s and 00s is where the unhealthiness is at its peak so that's where most of the discourse comes from.

So in universe I think both of them make mistakes and have certain attitudes and behaviours that could be deal breakers for some people, ie Tim's cheating and how he follows Bruce's footsteps dismissing Steph, and how Steph will sometimes overstep some boundaries because Dixon wanted to write the spunky bad girl pursuing the sensible chaste guy. But ultimately in universe there's nothing so bad that I'd write their entire relationship off as unhealthy, at least not before War Games. They had good moments and bad, and whether you think the good outweighed the bad or vice versa really comes down to what you personally can forgive and understand in a relationship and what you enjoy seeing in fictional romances. So Tim's cheating was an immediate red line for me even though I never thought him evil for it, just kind of dumb. And I'd understand if people still shipped them and thought them sweet despite that. So like, they have their unhealthy moments but I'd be wary of going to either extreme aka "Toxic and evil" or "perfect soulmates who's mistakes were ooc"

This is their pre war games versions I'm referring to. After War Games when Steph came back the writer for Robin basically used her as a tool to give Tim angst and show how cool he was. It's the worst Steph's ever been to Tim but it was also so poorly written and clearly biased thay even from an in universe perspective I can't take it seriously. Everything pre war games I wouldn't count as ooc but this... Yeah this deserves the extreme. It's not even "She wouldn't do that." it's more "Why are you not showing us why she's doing this. How am I meant to accept this when her motivations and characterization is so poorly written." It's like a lesser version of when writers lazily butcher Talia to benefit Bruce or Damian. There's no explanation or motivation for Steph's actions that make any sense, so I have zero interest in that version of Steph because she's even more of a prop for Tim than she was during war games, which was an incredibly disappointing way to bring her back and one of the reasons I'm very glad she got her own batgirl run.

Which brings me to out of universe. Because while in universe I'd hesitate to slap the unhealthy label on them the way I would on say, versions of Bruce that hit his kids (I think there is a big difference between the unhealthiness of timsteph and the writing of Batman as an abusive father, and I think Bruce's dynamic with his kids crossed the line from dramatic to unacceptable and toxic a lot more frequently and more extremely than timsteph did) out of universe looking at them from a perspective of how it benefits their characters I would say it's super unhealthy for Steph. Which is ironic because her romance with Tim and her featuring in his comics is how she became a constant character, but the writing is always trying to remind us that Tim is better than Steph, more heroic than Steph, more suitable for this life than Steph. Only the writing is so bad that, like with a lot of Tim's writing, the proof comes down to "Because Batman said so idk."

And that culminates in the failure that is War Games. Steph becoming Robin is all about getting Tim back. Both in universe as Bruce's motivation and in reality as the writers plan. While Steph is being tortured horribly Tim is helping is classmates as a civilian, and the writing hammers us over the head about how capable and competent and perfect Tim is to the point that I felt nauseous reading it because it felt like such a disgusting way to uplift him. And then when Steph comes back, she's not allowed have any actual emotions or feelings about what happened to her. The writers just throw her into a dumb Tim and Bruce plot without any care about how she would actually think and feel, and the same happens in Red Robin. It's all Tim Tim Tim and only her Batgirl series and her reaction to Bruce being alive actually allow her to be shown as a person and not just a prop to uplift Tim.

So basically in universe they're not my cup of tea but they're not like, abusive or anything. They're just shitty to each other sometimes, but they love each other and have their good moments pre war games. From a Doylist perspective though? I've yet to see timsteph written in a way that actually uplifts Steph's character, as even when she's written by someone who likes her and wants to keep her around such as Dixon there's just so much misogyny in how their dynamic is written. So I'm hoping they never get back together and just stay exes with a past so painful and complicated they don't want to talk about it with anyone, but especially not each other.

Thanks for the ask! I hope this made sense lmao I rambled a whole lot

[britcision]

Happy WIP Wednesday everyone! And no, no I’m not giving you Constantine early, because I think it’s funny to make you all wait 😈

How about a little Danny instead to get y’all ready for chapter 12 (which is just over half done, so we’re moving along swimmingly!)?

————————

Never Make A Promise You Can’t Keep

Harley had gotten back just before Sam had to leave, with perfect timing to see her to the door actually.

The look on Pamela Manson’s face when Harley kissed Sam on each cheek and waved her off would keep Danny warm on cold nights.

A quick check of flight times back to Massachusetts (like Danny wasn’t going to take shortcuts) confirmed that Tucker could have one more night in Gotham.

Tim immediately offered to put him up in Wayne Manor again, clearly not allowing the chance to slip by him two nights in a row. Tucker was only too happy to accept, although Steph and Cass begged off.

Probably for their hero patrols. Danny wasn’t exactly sure how many vigilantes Gotham had, there seemed to be a new one every few months, but having six of them at the gala last night probably meant all the rest had been out.

Obviously Red Robin wouldn’t be out tonight either, but there were enough of them to cover for each other.

Danny was kinda jealous of that. It had been just him for so long, and then him and Valerie, which hadn’t been better until she stopped hunting him too. He’d have loved a night off.

Still, their numbers meant that Jason probably wouldn’t need to go back to the night life unless he actually wanted to. He was definitely still built for it, but Danny couldn’t imagine anyone wanted to ask him to.

Most of the bats had clearly had their own run ins with death, but Jason’s had stuck in ways even Danny knew he didn’t quite get.

Jason had been so tense at just the thought of Danny being a teen hero. It wasn’t like that’d get easier when it was his little siblings swinging from rooftops.

Danny’s hero career might have started with his own death, but he personally was of the opinion that that’d be a perfectly fine reason to end one too.

So Dick, Steph, and Cass headed out not too long after Sam, and Danny wasn’t exactly surprised when Jason’s background angst jumped.

He’d stayed on edge since Danny and Bruce got back, even when Harley told them Bruce was off dealing with his own shit and probably wouldn’t be out of his room all night.

Danny’d bet fifty bucks that the arrival of Constantine actually meant Bruce was in the Bat Cave being suspicious, but he wasn’t gonna say it.

Tim had shown them to a games room, for all that he’d apparently also moved out. He still knew where everything was, and soon had them hooked up for Mariokart on the biggest TV Danny ever saw.

They’d played a couple rounds (Harley was expectedly devastating with red shells) and while Danny and Tucker were having fun, he could feel Jason stressing.

Like, even if he stuck his fingers in his ears and ignored the aura. The guy was tensed so tight his shoulders strained at his shirt, which woulda been visually interesting if Danny didn’t know why.

Cass was one near death experience from slipping back across the boundary for good.

Cass was off punching criminals with rocket launchers in body armour and spandex.

Duke was probably actually in bed, Signal did morning patrols, and Damian was obstinately refusing to play video games with them perched on the back of the couch, but still.

Dick and Steph had both given one life to the cause too, and for all Dick was a cop and in danger on his day job too, cops pretty famously showed up after the vigilantes ended the party.

More than half Jason’s immediate family were back in the line of fire and Danny could practically taste Jason’s Obsession eating away at him.

As much as he tried to pretend he was playing along and gave a shit about winning, the controller creaked in his hands more than a couple casual races should allow.

So, yeah, if he couldn’t get Jason to crack a smile with this one, he was gonna gently bow them both the fuck outta the manor.

He kept half an eye on Tim, who had a glass of water.

“Hey, you guys heard the theory about Batman?” He asked casually, just as another round of Mariokart started.

Jason kicked him in the ankle but otherwise ignored him, which was fair. He’d been exposed to Danny’s bullshit.

Tim stiffened and then forced himself to relax, Tucker rolled his eyes and jostled Danny from his other side, but it was Harley who answered.

Innocent as the day she was born.

“Oh? What? Is it that he’s a lizardman? Cuz I got right up on that cowl and he’s definitely a mammal,” she said casually, not even looking away from the screen.

Danny was pretty sure he heard Damian almost slip off his perch.

He was a little bit in love with Harley Quinn. He should get her number for Jazz, maybe his big sister would learn to have a little fun.

Grinning broad and only half fake, he drifted a turn to pick up a double item from under Tucker’s nose.

“Shit, yeah, you might actually know! It’s his secret identity!” He exclaimed cheerfully, and felt the tension in the room ratchet up.

From Tim and Damian. Jason… still wasn’t paying attention.

Not like he was deeply immersed in the game, for all he kept up he was nowhere near the speed demon that handed Danny his ass the night before.

Hmm. Better get his attention.

Tim and Damian had already settled again, probably remembering he was already In The Know even if Tucker wasn’t, and Harley had given him a very knowing look right before she fire flowered him.

Almost ready.

He waited until Tim had taken a hasty sip of water on a calm stretch, nudged Jason in the shins, and made sure he was louder than the music.

“So d’you think it’s possible that Markiplier’s Batman?”

Tim sprayed water across the couch, Harley fucking cackled, and Jason snapped his head around to stare at Danny so hard he cricked his neck.

Danny red shelled him for good measure, just so he wasn’t missing anything on screen.

Tucker rolled his eyes, also deeply deeply used to Danny’s bullshit and much more interested in gaming revenge.

“Fuck off Danny, Markiplier isn’t even a Gothamite,” he said disdainfully and Danny shook his head, grinning.

“That’s why it’s the perfect cover. I mean, Batman wants to keep his secret identity a secret, right? So having an identity that very publicly “isn’t in Gotham” makes perfect sense!” He argued cheerfully.

Jason half snorted a laugh beside him, picking back up and speeding his way back into the race. Across the couch Tim wiped his face, still catching his breath.

“I fucking hate that that made sense,” he moaned, and Harley cackled again.

“Nah, he’s got a point! How does anyone know where a youtuber lives? We only see one room!” She agreed cheerfully, clearly leaning in.

It was so nice to have a true showwoman in the crowd.

Damian looked angry in the confused way now, and Danny would hazard a guess he didn’t watch youtube at all, let alone a lets player. That might have made it funnier, had there been no other concerns.

Beside him Jason huffed out another dry chuckle, shaking his head with the barest hint of a smile.

“I can’t believe Batman has an OnlyFans,” he said in a solemn, almost sorrowful voice… and dropped a blue shell.

Tim groaned like his soul had gone with it, clinging desperately to his first place lead. Harley cackled and added her own green shells to the mix, dropping all three as they came to the home stretch.

“Don’t forget the calendar of tasteful nudes! All for charity, just what Batsy would like,” she crowed with evident glee, and Tucker snorted a laugh.

“It’d explain all the surgeries,” he agreed reluctantly, and Danny had a sudden, utterly wicked idea.

“Hey… now that Batman’s on OnlyFans, d’you think he’ll convince the whole Justice League to do a pinup calendar, or just the other bats?” He asked innocently, watching said bats from the corner of his eye.

Well, Robins technically, but since only Tim was of age birds didn’t seem appropriate.

Tim himself threw his controller to the ground, abandoning the game and throwing himself over the back of the couch and almost hitting Damian on the way.

Damian definitely hissed at him like a startled cat.

No way Danny imagined that this close to the finish.

Tucker hesitated for a long moment, clearly considering his odds of winning, but when Harley blasted past Tim’s spun out corpse and across the finish line he abandoned his controller too to check on Tim.

Harley was surprisingly good at the game when flopped sideways on her chosen couch, laughing too hard to breathe. Danny breezed into an easy third behind her and Jason, giving the other man an assessing look.

A little wary of reaching out with his aura, especially when Jason was on edge. He didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

Didn’t want to be too invasive, if he was honest. Danny had… kinda always been the one who was new to aura stuff before. And he’d gotten used to it, in the Ghost Zone.

He’d never spent this much time with another halfa before. Especially not without a single trace of punching or stabbing.

Except in Mariokart, where the Geneva Convention held no sway.

He’d have to get Ellie to give it a shot the next time she came by, she could join them remotely from an internet cafe anywhere on Earth.

Jason had clearly noticed him looking though, and read the concern even without Danny pushing. He gave Danny’s shoulder a gentle bump, a nudge of fine-stop worrying alongside.

Danny nudged back, his own disbelief tinged with understanding-empathy-worried too.

But, that was kinda the other thing… the thing he didn’t really want to bring up around the other bats just yet.

And while Jason had smiled, Danny didn’t think he’d mind them dipping out.

Faking a yawn, he stretched, cracked his back, and looked over to where Tim had rejoined the couch.

“Honestly, I’m beat. I gotta try and get back into a better sleep schedule before classes start,” he said, pulling a face at the self-reminder.

Their break was coming to its end, and then he’d be back into university. His class schedule was flexible, more afternoons than early mornings, but he’d… miss this.

Free time to just spend the whole day hanging out with friends and catching up. Meeting Jason’s family, Jason meeting his.

Danny didn’t actually know what Jason did, whether he was working or going back to school, but it was gonna come up soon.

They had a trip to Frostbite to plan, some ecto shots from Danny’s fridge, and at some point he still had to introduce Jason to Frighty… and probably ask the guy if he wanted to be called that still.

It’d be a little weird to start calling him Halloween or whatever, but frankly him obeying Danny’s orders and calling him “my liege” was way fucking weirder so it’d be fine.

And about four more days before half of Danny’s time would be eaten by lectures, study halls, and projects. Fuck, maybe Jason would give him a hand with those too.

So long as he wasn’t sick of Danny by then.

Another quick glance showed that Jason’s face had reset into that tense almost-scowl again, staring past the TV.

At the other end of the couch, Tim gave a disgruntled huff.

“I’m gonna make you pay for that next time,” he grumbled, shifting to Tucker with an adorable moment of sudden concern. “Do you need me to show you to a room too, or…”

Tucker shook his head with a snicker, giving Danny a side eye.

“Nah, unlike that weakling I got used to the vigilante sleep schedule back in high school. I’m good for a couple more hours at least,” he bragged.

Danny flipped him off, hauling himself to his feet and giving Jason a nudge.

“Yeah, well, this weakling fought a croc last night and needs his sleep. Mind giving me a ride back?” He asked when Jason looked up at him.

Gently offered a touch of easy out-reassurance-trust me.

The deep furrows in Jason’s brows twitched until he caught on and his expression cleared. He nodded quickly and pulled himself to his feet.

“Yeah, we can take my bike.” Then he hesitated and looked a little uncertain. “You never told me where you live.”

It took Danny a moment to realise that… no, he really hadn’t, because that just plain didn’t feel right. But no, he’d met Jason again in that coffee shop, then come to the gala with Sam.

Hadn’t gone home last night, just stopped at one of Jason’s apparently multiple places; at least he was doing better than Danny had thought from the first apartment.

He found himself chuckling at the thought, shaking his head.

“Oh yeah, we’ve only been to your place… I’m at the south dorm at Gotham U, I can give you directions as we get closer,” he offered and Jason nodded.

He felt… weird? Like he was surprised Danny had told him where he lived, and ashamed of being surprised.

Danny decided not to dig into it, offering Jason his arm and bowing like all those Shakespeare plays he knew Jason loved.

“Shall we?”

Jason’s moment of surprise was quickly swallowed by delight and he bowed back, then tucked his hand into Danny’s elbow. Almost definitely knew etiquette better than Danny did, so Danny wasn’t gonna doubt him.

“We shall. I’ll drop you off and head home,” he agreed, then paused and glanced back at Harley.

Whose giggling had completely ended and was now watching them like her favourite sitcom. Chin in hands and all.

“Did you wanna meet up here tomorrow, or…” Jason trailed off, obviously also a little put off by her intensity.

She perked up when addressed, giving him a cheery grin and a double thumbs up.

“Here or th’ station, I don’t mind! Hey, did ya wanna come too, Danny boy?” She asked sweetly, head cocked to the side and just waaaay too innocent.

Not that Danny could work out what she was up to.

“Uh… to do what?” He asked carefully, head cocking to match hers before he noticed and straightened up.

Her grin widened, so she noticed.

“Oh, Jason an’ I are gonna go check on my buddy Waylon, see if we can’t work out what he was doin’ at the gala. If y’ouse threw down he might like ta see ya there?”

Which honestly left Danny at a loss, until Tim explained.

“Killer Croc. His actual name’s Waylon Jones, and he was Harley’s tenant in Coney Island before coming back to Gotham,” he said casually, and Danny stilled.

Felt something cold and all too familiar at the back of his neck. And felt Harley notice it, suddenly predator sharp in a way he hadn’t felt since Skulker was a serious threat.

For the life of him though, he couldn’t put his finger on what he felt, since she didn’t move. Just grinned like she had been all along.

“People called him Killer Croc cuz of his skin condition. He gave up tryin’ ta change their minds,” she said with a light shrug, completely belied by the intensity of her stare.

Danny couldn’t look away until she released him, something satisfied in the quirk of her lip. Like she could feel the sudden well of tension in his chest.

He’d never actually given in to all the things his parents had called Phantom. They’d been ashamed of all of them when the truth came out, and he’d only had to put up with them for a few years.

He tried to imagine decades of it, being called a monster for things he couldn’t control. For nothing more than a weird scaly skin condition.

He couldn’t imagine going full bomb vest over it, but Danny was man enough to admit he might just be a little touchy because of Jason’s death.

Which Waylon might not even know about.

Suddenly he actually did want to know why they’d attacked the gala.

Until now it had just been inevitable, someone was going to so why not them, but… well. He’d felt it under the whole plan, every stupid step.

Jason had trusted Waylon, not Danny, to keep things from getting out of hand. To know that a tussle was part of the fun.

Danny hadn’t planned on asking, but. Yeah.

“I’d like that,” he agreed quickly, nodding, at about the same time as Tucker found his own voice.

“Wait, that’s a skin condition? He’s just like that?” The techie asked sharply, staring around at Tim and Damian to confirm.

And got a disdainful look from Damian back.

“Tt, what else would it be? Do you know many scaled people?” He asked archly.

Danny’s mind snapped directly to Dora and her asshole brother. Knew Tucker’s had gone to the same place a second later.

“More than you’d think,” he and Tucker said in unison, and they shared a grin. If there was one benefit to their fucked up ghost hunting years, it was shutting down smart ass remarks.

Damian only looked more annoyed at being corrected, and Tucker shrugged.

“I thought he mighta been a scientist and tried to fuse himself with a lizard or something, like in Spider-Man,” he elaborated, and Danny kinda hated how much their lives resembled superhero movies.

Not that he’d say that in a room full of bats.

Damian’s brows drew down even further and he sneered, displeasure evident, but Jason cut him off before he could speak.

“Before you make a comment about mad scientists I’m gonna remind you we live in a city with Viktor Fries,” he said dryly and Damian’s mouth snapped shut.

Big brother privileges.

Wouldn’t it be nice if Ellie had given Danny those?

Tucker gave Danny a confused look, and Danny just shrugged back. He didn’t pay much attention to Gotham’s various rogues; he didn’t want to tempt his Obsession.

Tim chimed in again, without actually looking at Tucker which was kinda impressive.

“Dr Freeze. He uses a lot of liquid nitrogen and freeze rays, he’s usually after money or diamonds to try and cure his wife,” he explained with a slight shrug.

Tucker made a confused noise.

“So… couldn’t Bruce just pay him off and keep him from bothering the city?” He asked carefully, glancing around the room.

Jason actually snorted a laugh at that, shaking his head.

“If he could, he would have. What Fries wants isn’t possible yet.”

Not possible for humans. Part of Danny perked up, wondering if Frostbite might have the answers… but no. It wasn’t his job to solve every problem in the world.

Bringing healthy humans to the Zone was iffy. An already sick woman… well, she might get hastened along her journey to the afterlife.

And this was a conversation he really wanted to keep away from, honestly. Gotham’s rogues weren’t his problem. Couldn’t be his problem.

Danny fought ghosts, unkillable entities who enjoyed missile attacks as sport. He wasn’t interested in learning how squishy human rogues were; it had been bad enough with his friends in the line of fire.

Mega pass on being the firing squad.

He almost reconsidered the trip tomorrow, but… he trusted Jason. Trusted Jason knew where he was coming from, and that neither of them wanted to trip Danny’s Obsession.

So he gave the big guy a smile and an elbow nudge, nodding for the door.

“Not that rogue chat isn’t fascinating, but you were taking me to bed?” He asked hopefully, and only realised what he’d said when Harley stuffed half her fist in her mouth to laugh.

—————

Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor

[gerryrigged]

DickTim - Unrequited???

Me: (in the mood for Angst, attempting to dream up actually legitimately unrequited Dick -> Tim for maximum Dick pining and pain)

My DickTim brain: yeah sorry, you came to the wrong brain, I can’t muster up a scenario right now where Tim Drake is not on some level in love with Dick Grayson. Even if he’s like happily hitched to someone else, that just means he came to terms with it, not that it doesn’t exist ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Me: fuck. Okay then, how about Amnesia!Tim? 😈 Can't love Dick if he doesn't even know his own name amirite mwahaha

My DickTim brain: omg but what if Tim takes in Dick’s beautiful, worried face, the panicked care with which he checks Tim over, and proceeds to fall in love with him all over again, possibly before learning his own name? 🥺💕

Me: 😍😍😍 - wait no, goddammit. Come on, keep in mind the goal here okay?

Me: hmm, how about… Hanahaki AU where Tim had to have his love for Dick surgically removed literal years ago?

My DickTim brain: you don’t even like Hanahaki AUs but ok. Tragic! 😩 How can we fix this problem? Dick is gutted he didn’t know about this, but sees signs of hope in Tim’s smile and the way their relationship has gradually been improving over the years since the low point that must have been the Hanahaki surgery. And he’s right for not giving up! Tim’s love for him re-grows like a stubborn weed.

My DickTim brain: Except not a weed because it’s not Hanahaki anymore because it’s requited. Hope this helps. 😌

Me: …you are the opposite of helpful.

Me: alright so what if Tim is still angry with Dick post-BruceQuest, so he's moved on and no longer has feelings for–

My DickTim brain: –I think you mean, Tim is angry with Dick post-BruceQuest and it’s complicated BECAUSE he still has feelings for–

Me: WILL YOU CUT THAT OUT

Me: ...Tim gets shot with a magical Opposite Ray, so there 😡

My DickTim brain: okay but that’s hilarious tho, like it becomes excruciatingly obvious how in love he normally is because of how suddenly cold and indifferent he is to Dick specifically. Dick Grayson who? And Dick doesn’t know why this drives him quite so up the wall, but he is in fact losing his mind having gone from #1 in Tim’s affections to dead last. When he’s not putting every scrap of energy into reversing the spell's effects, he’s stubbornly throwing himself against the icy wall of Tim’s apathy.

My DickTim brain: Everyone is like Dick. You know that’s useless, right? It’s magic. Stop hurting yourself for no reason. While Dick is like "that sounds like LOSER TALK to me - Tim, Timmy, Timbo, come train-surfing with me 🥺"

My DickTim brain: or alternatively, especially post-Red Robin, he's like, "No reason? Do you have any idea how unbearable this is for me? How much it reminds me of - no, no, I'm not going through this again. I've let Tim go before and I still don't know whether that was the right thing to do. But I've never given up on him before and I'm not starting now. We were doing so good - like hell am I letting some spell screw that up. TIM, hey, come train-surfing with me!"

My DickTim brain: meanwhile the other person is like, "Raven and Zatanna said the counterspell would be ready in less than a week, Dick PLEASE 😭"

Me: DAMMIT you’re so right 😔

[idontunderstandchemistry]

Uncomfortable - Tim Drake (1/3)

Summary: [...] "Are you saying you are afraid of me?" "I wouldn't say afraid" Dick said, trying to sound casual "It's just the way you've been talking about everything these days. It makes everyone feel..." "Uncomfortable?" Tim asked, with a bitter grin, finally turning towards Dick "The probable consequences of what you all say and do to me make you uncomfortable, Dick?" [...] Extremely hurt Tim Drake living out of coffee and spite.

Wordcount: 1.5K

Content Warnings: Angst; suicide idealization, mentions of self harm, etc.

Notes: Finally dropping this here, posted the first chapter on Ao3 a couple days ago. Hope you guys enjoy it! Reblogs and likes are very much appreciated ❣️

Part 2 - Part 3

CHAPTER 1 - COFFEE.

Red Robin stared at the screen with sleepy eyes. He'd already found the solution to this case half an hour ago, but pretending he didn't was the only way to avoid being requested at the post patrol circus going on upstairs.

It was always like this, at least it has been since he came back to live in the mansion. There was the patrol, and after, Alfred would prepare a table with many treats for the family to eat while he patched them up. 

What a perfect, happy family, bonding after some quality time kicking criminal ass.

A herd of hypocrites.

Two of them tried to kill him and most of them didn't seem to give a single fuck about the matter.

But what was he expecting, anyway? He was the unwanted child. He crawled his way into this family when Bruce was too vulnerable to deny it, grieving, he was Jason's replacement, after all. The only reason why he was still allowed among the bats of Gotham was his hypercompetence. Or perhaps it was because of how dangerous it would be for them all if he decided to play for the  other team.

If you didn't fear the man who at the age of nine deduced the identity of the world's best detective, you were a fool. Yeah Bruce was a bad, emotionally distant parental figure, but he was no fool, and Tim had to give him the credit for that.

— Drake — Robin said.

Tim felt the ferrous taste of blood filling his mouth. The demon. He pretended not to hear. He wanted nothing with this damn child. This Demoniac being that had tried to kill him multiple times in the last few years. The kid who had never done anything to deserve being Robin, the title for whom Tim has worked so hard for years.

— Alfred asked if you plan on joining the rest of the family anytime soon — The little boy said with his entitled filled tone. Fucking psychopath.

— I am working — Red Robin simply said.

— You're not fooling anyone, Drake — He said, stepping closer to his brother — Staring at a screen isn't working.

— You say like you know anything about working — Tim answered, after a deep sigh — Please, leave me alone. Tell them whatever you want, say that I threatened you with a knife, that I pushed you towards a wall, whatever you want. Just leave me alone.

— You say like they would believe it.

Damian said nothing else, simply left without any other response from Tim, that sighed deeply and continued staring at the screen.

His eyes felt heavier.

“Funny” thing about feeling down: usually, the brain cannot understand the emotional distress and the body intentionally does things to justificate that distress to its brain. 

Some people cut themselves – Tim couldn't do that, Alfred would ask too many questions –; others refused to eat – Tim tried it, but it didn't really fit his lifestyle –; some people drank 'til they tripped and fall — He could do this, but the posterior headaches weren't worth it, even though this is Gotham City and he could easily find a place that sells alcohol to minors – ; some people over exercised until they couldn't stand anymore, hoping the soreness of their muscles would be enough to feel like their pain is valid; some people took dangerous car drives or tried to equilibrate themselves on the edges of rooftops – These were Dick's things –; some people numb themselves with smoke on his lungs – Tim could do this, but refused. This was Jason's thing, and he didn't want to have anything in common with Jason.

So, to try to justify his pain to himself, Tim never slept. Well, of course he slept, he had to, but he always avoided it. This was his way of self punishment. He could almost hear his brain.

“What do you mean your emotions are shit? No, this is not a good reason for all this distress. Here, have a unusual way of self harm and then I'll consider if it is enough or not”

Tim hasn't really slept in the last four days, not more than an hour or two. There were occasional long blinks, but whenever Alfred decided to try to drug his coffee – His best ally in his attempts of making the pain make sense – and sent him to his bedroom, he would only stare at the ceiling. Tim already had it memorised. Then he would close his eyes when he could hear footsteps approaching his door and pretend to be asleep until whoever Alfred sent to spy on him finally left.

A solitary life, it was, but he didn't mind. Since his childhood, loneliness was mostly everything Timothy Jackson Drake knew. His most loyal companion.

— Hey, buddy — Nightwing's voice echoed in Tim's ears.

Fucking traitor. 

The man with the kind smile that was responsible for half of the mud in which Tim found himself stuck. The man who took away from Tim the only thing that kept him standing, the only thing that mattered for him in a long time. This was the Dick Grayson, the “good fella”, Bruce's golden child, “The clearer version of what Batman was meant to be”. Dick Fucking Grayson.

Again, Tim pretended not to hear.

— Dames said you were still working. Don't you think it is time for a break?

— I'm not tired — Tim said, though Dick wasn't dumb enough to believe it. Anyone that looked into Tim's face would see how fucking tired he was. Deep and dark eyebags, hollowed expressions in his eyes, cheeks slightly inwards like the corpse of a very thin woman. Dick sighed.

— I know, but B misses you. We all miss you. And we are worried.

— There's nothing to worry about — Tim said, simply.

Dick sighed again and pulled his chair closer to Tim.

Fuck . He had to lecture Tim right now, of course. He simply couldn't deny the urge of being the reasonable older brother, the inspirational hero, the right one, the mediator of the family.

— Let's be honest, Little Wing...

— Don't call me little wing.

— Tim, we are worried about you — Dick said, Tim never looked at his face, he knew he wouldn't be able to stop himself from rolling his eyes if he did. He couldn't stand Dick Grayson's hypocrite smile and kind eyes anymore. He could barely stand his voice — What you said today during patrol... That joke....

— Joke? — Tim asked, furrowing his brows. He didn't remember telling a joke.

— You know, buddy. That one about the metro-narrows bridge.

Oh . That.

It wasn't a joke. More likely a loud thought.

Tim remembered that. He said that if Damian called him “unworthy” again, he would simply throw himself from the top of metro-narrows bridge, towards the cars. 

Tim has been "telling these jokes" for weeks now.

— Even Dames stepped back. Everyone did, actually. The family...

— Are you saying you are afraid of me?

— I wouldn't say afraid — Dick said, trying to sound casual — It's just the way you've been talking about everything these days. It makes everyone feel...

— Uncomfortable? — Tim asked, with a bitter grin, finally turning towards Dick. He could see the surprise in his brother's eyes. Or was it something else? Tim's guts were absolutely soaked in rage now — The probable consequences of what you all say and do to me make you uncomfortable, Dick? You can't bear the guilt? Or you're just worried your Robin will have to deal with the responsibility of the death of his predecessor?

Dick said nothing. Just sighed. Dick Grayson knew the battles he couldn't win. Dick put a mug in front of Tim. His favourite mug, filled with the dark liquid in which Tim loved to drown himself.

— We can talk later — The elder said — Jason made you coffee. He said you wouldn't want to have a break. Guess he knows you better than the rest of us.

— The perks of trying to slit someone's throat — Tim said completely out of spite, just to see Dick flinch in discomfort.

— Just drink before it gets cold, okay?

Dick left and Tim decided to not make another comment.

Red Robin stared at the mug in front of him, wondering if Jason poured poison into the liquid or Alfred poured the sleep drugs. Either way, there was no chance Tim would let it get into his system. He turned off the screen and grabbed the mug, walking towards his bedroom. In his room already, Tim locked the door and poured the coffee into his bathroom sink.

After taking a shower – He wasn't that bad that he would deny himself a simple shower, although he doubted it would take long to reach this point – He verified all the hidden spots in his room. Behind the curtains, his closet, under his bed. After making sure Jason wasn't there hidden with a knife, he slid between his sheets, soft and smooth.

Red Robin stared at the ceiling of the room where some years ago, lived Timothy Jackson Drake.

[songbirdblues]

theres much to be said about the woobification of tim drake as a character entirely in fanon, but one thing in particular that tends to irk me is the misinterpretation of this scene.

now, i generally dont have a problem with fanon interprets of events like this!!! in fact, im an avid fanfic reader and i can honestly say i dont mind when comic events get squashed or stretched out of proportion. people want angst and fluff, and hurt and comfort, and i can respect that a lot of dc fans get their info from fanon and dont bother/simply dont want to read comics because they lack those feel-good moments/that emotional depth that fanfics have. thats fine, thats none of my business, and thats perfectly valid!

...but i think it does get to a point where a comic is SO misinterpreted, like this one (or just this series in general, really), that it loses all that makes it good and interesting in the first place.

dick isn't a bad guy here. whether you think what he said was warranted or not, or if you think him saying that he thinks tim should seek help is insensitive or wrong, he's not some evil abusive guy who hates tim (tim literally calls him his brother in the scene???? in a positive context??)

i just see a lot of people think dick is some terrible villain for this event (and for the "firing and replacing tim just so damian can be robin for no reason" thing which is also a misinterpretation of what happened, but thats something else). when in reality dick himself is already struggling to keep his family from falling apart even more than it already has, has been forced to become batman, and has to raise this random, murderous kid that just popped into his life (i love damian but bro was giving dick gray hairs in his twenties in the beginning lol), all while dealing with the loss of his father for the second time in his life. on top of this, to him, his 16 year old brother is off doing god knows what across europe going on a wild goose chase looking for their (presumably) dead father and doesnt know what to do about it.

but despite all that, in tims eyes, dick massively messed up. we know he thinks this by what he says in the comic.

which leads me to my last point; tims own thoughts. this is a bit more of my opinion on tims character rather than objective fact so bear with me. tims internal monologue and emotional journey across red robin are why i think this series is so heavily (sorry to keep using this word) misinterpreted by fanon.

throughout the course of the story, tim is being forced to suffer with a grief that that he doesnt know how to deal with. like dick, this is the second father tim has lost. but the difference between them is that when tim experiences loss he... doesnt really know how to deal with it, like at all. he goes crazy when he loses someone close to him. at least dick can kinda sorta keep it together. after jack died and bruce tried to adopt him, tim literally hired a man to pretend to be his uncle to avoid it. when kon died, he tried to clone him 99 whole times with old luthor tech, (and later when damian died, tim hallucinated hugging him, or at the very least pretended to, which while a lot tamer than these other instances i still think it speaks to how deeply he feels these losses and how badly he handles it). i dont know the specifics of how he acted about other people hes lost like bart, stephanie, and his mom, but tim even says himself that part of the reason why he's doing all this is because of how many people he's lost, so it can be assumed he reacted harshly to their passing, too.

tim also admits, multiple times throughout red robin, that he knows he sounds/acts crazy, he admits that he goes farther than he ever went as robin when dealing with criminals and cases because as red robin he's now "tainted" and agrees with connor in a later issue that "red robin" is his punishment for himself.

so what i mean by all this is that, simply put, tim is an unreliable narrator. of course we as the readers feel angry at dick and cassie, tim himself is angry at them. he feels hurt and betrayed, and it could even be assumed at that point that he feels they abandoned him, and he thinks that they think hes crazy. he isolates himself from everyone, he feels unworthy of everything, and he "knows" hes lost it. "except for everything, im perfectly fine." is a quote he says, and there are plenty more like it in the series.

my point is that in tims eyes for the majority of his character arc as red robin, nearly everyone hes ever loved has either died or abandoned him, but as the audience we know thats not the case. cassie loves him, dick of course loves him, they just both made mistakes and hurt him, but that doesnt make either of them irredeemable or mean that they dont care about tim. tim himself, in that moment, just doesnt believe that, or doesnt even seem to consider that. he sees the bad, and blinded by his own grief and anger, doesnt see the good.

i just think a lot of people miss that, and just write dick off as borderline abusive or purposefully hurtful in red robin fanfics, because comics tend to get telephoned so much in the fandom that thats what people see him as, when it's not the case, which is how we got the "dick threatens to send tim to arkham" thing. (but thats just gonna happen i guess. did you know that in the actual jasons attack on titans tower comic jason wears his robin costume?? yeesh i'll have to stick with fanon on their interpretation of that whole thing. see its not bad all the time)

besides the idea of the whole arkham trope thing, theres still plenty of canon angst to pull from in red robin! you can write about how tim thinks hes losing it, ra's weird infatuation with tim and everything that comes with that, tim being forced to deal with losing robin, tims rocky relationship with tam fox, tims super rocky relationship with damian, any interaction between kon and tim, OH. the fact that at one point tim got kicked out of a tall building and accepted his death (only thinking about how bruce would be proud), only to be saved by dick last minute and then lying about knowing dick would save him (yeah right buddy) ((its issue #12)). theres also the idea of bruce and tim talking after tim finds him (canon bruce hug!!!). and theres more im forgetting for sure. all that to say theres plenty of ideas already there for the taking!!!!! red robin is a great comic filled with plenty of emotional moments.

moral of the story, dick isn't a terrible person, tim needs help but he isn't a little baby incapable of doing anything, and i believe writing them differently in the context of red robin (2009) is a disservice to their characters and their relationships with each other in the actual comic.

...but i mean, im not your dad. write what you want

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

I Wanna Rock and Roll All Night (It Keeps the Green Away)

by vrt77 His mentor was silent for a moment, and Tim almost thought Bruce was just now realizing his assumption. But then the man spoke. “I don’t have any evidence linking Red Hood with these crimes. It could be him or any member of his tour. That’s why I’m sending you undercover to investigate.” Tim nodded, relieved Bruce was being reasonable about this and not just letting Red Hood’s nominal association with Joker cloud his objectivity. Then, Bruce’s words hit him. “Wait, what?” The Jason Todd rockstar au you didn't know you needed. Words: 1747, Chapters: 1/8, Language: English Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics), Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010), Batman: Wayne Family Adventures (Webcomic), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Hood/Arsenal (Comics), Red Hood: Lost Days, Red Hood: Outlaws - Patrick R. Young & Nico Bascuñan (Webcomic) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen, M/M Characters: Jason Todd, Tim Drake (DCU), Roy Harper, Bruce Wayne Relationships: Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Roy Harper/Jason Todd, Roy Harper & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: Rockstar AU, But they're also still superheroes, Featuring Bruce Wayne's meh parenting, they're brothers your honor, Jason Todd saw a wet rat called Tim Drake, And he said Imma adopt that, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Identity Reveal, Jason Todd Has Issues, Tim Drake Has Self-Worth Issues, Lazarus Pit Mad Jason Todd via https://ift.tt/AweKJro

[ghosttzonee]

ive got some tim drake angst propaganda but:

-tim drake breaking down whe he sees jason because thats his hero his idol the one person hes been trying to live up to the literal most important person in his life and hes trying to kill him.

-tim drake normalizing the neglect because batman and robin save people who need help and they didnt save him so clearly he doesn’t actually need help. his parents must not be doing anything wrong if robin doesnt help save him. its really important to jason robin to help kids. (this doesnt stop tim from forming robin to be the one thing that makes him feel more safe than anything, even batman, because if he needed help he knew robin would save him. thats what robin does. he helps kids)

-tim not being able to mourn jason because of his parents being classist. tim not being able to talk to jason at the galas. tims eyes lighting up when he saw jason or got to sneak out to take pictures of him. tim reading classic lit because it is jasons favorite. when his parents arent home tim sneaks out to say goodbye and drops off a photo album of jason looking happy and a copy of jane eyre. its the last one tim had been reading when….

-tim drake being in so much pain and so tired already and then jason tries to kill him. and tim not fighting because his robin is back

-tim being wary around jason 24/7 for obvious reasons but dying inside to be able to give jason a hug

-tim never arguing with being called replacement because jason is right its not really his family anyways

-!!! everyone hates him! and everyone is dead. and fuck it his hero, his robin, wouldnt be bothered to save him anyways.

-why should he even bother anymore, when everyone wants him dead? no one is going to save little red robin at this point.

-tim drake having literally no where else to turn

-de aged tim drake expressing his purest hero worship to a still murderous jason todd

-de aged tim drake who just needs a parent but is adamant he can do it all himself

-tim drake who has been touch starved for so long that touching people sounds like a worse idea than keeping it that way

-vulnerable tim drake accidentally seeking out comfort and care before withdrawing back in on himself

-jason todd and tim drake being all the other has but it really doesnt matter at this point, does it?

(tbc)

[aroacebunny]

my problem isn’t so much of comics killing their characters (after all i am the 1# angst stories lover) but more with the execution

I feel like they need to pay more attention on a) what it means to the story and b) what it means to the characters

like feel free to kill jason or damian but if you’re just having them die for shock value? it isn’t even shocking anymore everybody knows that comic book characters don’t ACTUALLY die and they will come back eventually. i am not a big fan of saying that something was done for shock value, specially with deaths because in reality death is shocking and it can come at any moment and for characters to die it is a totally normal experience but in this specific case due to jason’s history i ACTUALLY feel like it was meant for this to be a shock value moment, for the audience to go “OH NO!” but again, we are familiar with the comic book medium and superheroes coming back is as natural as the wind. so to me at this point, it isn’t so much about them dying but the effects it ripples through on the other characters involved

and having bruce go “oh no my boy :(” it’s not really giving me the emotions desired. i already know that Batman is strong and he will be angry because of it but how does he navigates this feeling? everybody around him? We know how he felt after jason died the first time but at this moment, does he have the time to go through all these feelings?

and at this point that whole “i am familiar with dying” thing it just makes it so there really are no stakes for them, and if there is nothing for me to be afraid of then why would i care about their well being? they feel like video game characters where if they die it’s okay i’ll just try again and they’ll be fine

idk but in all honesty i think there is no problem with them dying and coming back if enough time is given to the characters to drive through the experience which such a big reason why i love jason’s return ! bruce is sad and angry, tim noticing it, becoming new robin, jasons rebirth and his complicated feelings with batman, red hood, all of these things makes me love the “died and came back wrong” experience and it can be used very well but idk if it’s because time constraints or the writers truly just didn’t know what to do?

i don’t know it’s all still a bit fresh and also i just got here i haven’t been following this series or plot so maybe it makes sense to people who have been accompanying it (or maybe i keep being optimistic)

i also have a complicated relationship with serialised comics and stories because i never know when i should just accept that a story is being executed badly and when i should just wait and let them cook, same think with my manga like should i call the firefighters because the house is on fire or is this all part of the plan and in the long run it will be beneficial for all?

[brucewaynehater101]

I'm so glad you like it! Honestly, I'm pretty jealous as well. Though, I don't doubt he has the white noise generator and uses it on more than just those trips. Could you imagine Bruce and the other Bats going to the Supers, Clark, Kon, Kara, and Jon (who if I remember correctly has the best ears out of all of them) and when asked to track him down by sound, all of them are just like, "Red Robin? Oh no we can't do that." and when asked why, Clark gets nervous and says, "well. None of us have ever been able to hear his heart beat. We don't know what tech or magic he uses but *none* of us have ever been able to hear his heart. Not since he was 15. I asked you one time why I couldn't hear him and you just hummed at me!"

Meanwhile panic is rising in not just the hero community, but also the villain one. Red Robin has a *lot* of connections and if someone took or heaven forbid killed him? The Gothem Rouges remember what happened when the second Robin died, they know how bad Batman got. Now the Robin who saved them from him is gone? And now Nightwing and Red Hood and Spoiler and all the rest are on a Hunt, getting more violent like Batman did? Oh no, they are all going into hiding until this blows over.

Then there's also the villains connected to members of Young Justice. The Flash's Rouges Gallery hears that one of the Mini Speedsters is in a grief spiral and could end up seriously hurting them because one of his best friends has gone missing and is presumed dead? Fuck No. They are keeping their noses clean until it's done. So are the people who tend to antagonize Metropolis because Kon is *not* holding back. He grabbed Matallo and used his TTK to make him fall into thousands of pieces and then just stared down at him with a cold look of anger before leaving. Dr Light when to the ER when he tried to mess with the Teen Titans while both Dick and Damian were still on call and Tim was missing.

On day four of Tim being missing, Damian's head suddenly snaps up and he says, "I need to check a tracker." and the rest of the Bats follow him to the bat computer. When asked what he is doing, Damian admits, "a few years ago when I still hated Timothy, I put a tracker inside of his favorite camera, which he just so happened to bring with him on his trip. It may still be there and if he has his camera-" a few moments later, there is a ping on the screen showing the tracker is o the move, currently crossing the boarder from Kentucky into West Virginia. Tim has no idea what hell is coming for him, mostly because he figured that the Bats knew he did this every other month to unwind and relax. Traveling on a train for 4 to 6 days is his version of a vacation.

Glad for the add on. However, I think the angst reason for Tim "not having a heartbeat" would be because Kon died.

After Kon died, Tim created the machine to make sure no one else could hear his heartbeat (especially because Kon wasn't around for that anymore). When Kon came back, it was still a rough time for Tim. He was practically a feral and distrustful raccoon. Since he's still working on trusting people again, his heartbeat is still hidden (plus Kon hasn't brought it up, so Tim kind of forgot).

The stuff about the rogues is so true! That's why a few fanworks call Tim the "heart" of the batfam. I think all members play important roles and will similarly be missed. The heart comment is a cute nod to his role as a bridge and leash (he helped B obtain a larger support group and prevented him from killing people).

I like that this has Damian being the one to find out. Though Tim is grateful there's was a way for his family to find him while they were freaked out (he thought they knew about it), he's also exasperated at the tracker's existence. He probably pulls a prank on Damian for it.

Also, Tim 100% brings this incident back up with Bruce whenever the man complains about Tim's habit of overworking. He looks his father in the eyes and says, "The last time I took a vacation, you freaked out and mobilized the entire hero community to find me." They both know that's not what happened, but Tim is also not wrong.

[rubydubydoo122]

thank you for your very correct opinions on red hood!tim 🙏 like why would he even care specifically abt crime alley???

but what are your thoughts on red hood!damian or duke? i honestly believe talia would kill the joker and that would be it - good luck on making talia let her kid back into gotham

red hood!duke though... we could maximize angst potential if he finds his (jokerized) parents *after* he comes back to gotham from the dead

Here's the thing, I see Duke Becoming the Red Hood more than Damian, but I still can't see either of them becoming the Red Hood.

Damian would be able to be ruthless, yes, but he doesn't have a reason to have an iron fist over Gotham's drug problem, and--

see here's the thing that Reverse Robins au is that most writer don't really think about how the character would react if they were in another character's shoes

So, If Damian died, and came back only to find nothing had changed, how would he react? He would probably think he was never enough for his Father, and I think he would stay with the league and become Ra's heir.

now Duke....Duke Dying trying to save his parents from the Joker, only to find his parents jokerized???? Idk why, but I don't think Duke could ever become an Anti-hero like Jason is. I feel like Duke after coming back from the Dead would probably be more apathetic, and especially since he was trying to save his parents, he would have a more "We can't save everyone" mindset. He would make sure none of his younger siblings took extensive risks, He would see himself as more expendable (Which probably drives Damian and Bruce up a wall) Im sorry, I just can't see Duke becoming an Antihero

but also, I don't think anyone in the 80 saw Jason becoming an anti hero, until Garzonas. So idk. Take my opinions with a grain of salt

[nghtwngs]

the world in black, blue, and red

description: if you asked dick how he wanted his nightly patrol to go, bleeding out on the sidewalk would definitely not be his first choice, but then again, luck doesn’t exactly run in the family.

pairing: nightwing!dick grayson x reader

genre: angst, pining

word count: 1.5k

warnings: blood/injury (mildly graphic), swearing

i reference nightwing (2016) vol. 1 here and there, slight spoilers for the comic. i left this open ended so you can imagine dick’s fate however you’d like

The slash in Dick’s abdomen fucking hurts.

You think he’d be used to pain by now with all the scars that litter his otherwise perfect skin. That it’d hurt a little less with each fresh wound. It doesn’t. You just learn to hide it better.

His breath is heavy, and it’s January, so he can see it in the air. He can watch it float into the cold night like smoke. He’s reminded of how it looks to smoke and how he hates the smell of cigarettes, but it also reminds him of Jason, and so he’s grown to hate it a little less. It feels ironic almost, how Dick is watching his last breaths escape him, his body both freezing and feverish at the same time.

He groans as he tilts his head up to examine his fingers covered, drenched in a dark red after only grazing his torso. He’s not sure how it’s gotten to this point; how he let himself get bested, and he knows that Bruce would be disappointed. So much for making his own decisions, huh?

He wonders if anyone will come to his aid now, but in a shithole like Gotham, no one is stupid enough to be out at this hour unless they’re looking for trouble. Dick is a prime example, and he definitely found it. Will they find his body in the morning?

Nightwing of Gotham found dead on the street.

Great front page header. Not so much for him, but this is what he gets for going out on patrol alone. No Babs. No Jason. No Tim. No Damian. No you.

He knows that Babs would be mad that he didn’t stick to his word, but she can’t stay upset at him for that long if he’s six feet under, could she? He’s in some real shit either way. So, he lies here in a growing pool of his own blood, the metallic taste of it fresh on his tongue.

What’s his plan now?

What would Bruce do? God, why is he asking himself that? Bruce would not be bleeding out here on the sidewalk like roadkill. He’s spent his entire life in Batman’s shadow, and now, trying to make a name of his own as Nightwing. Is Dick just a stray now?

No, Dick Grayson is not a stray. He is not Bruce. He is Nightwing. He’s no longer Robin, no longer in Batman’s shadow, no longer under the grasp of the Court of Owls. So, Dick finds himself asking, what would Nightwing do?

Not give up.

His only options are to either somehow get a hold of someone to come help him or to help himself.

And maybe wait it out until he bleeds out on the cold, damp pavement? Dick is, decidedly, still on the fence about that one. The latter of the first two would be great if he could move a limb without wanting to scream out bloody murder, possibly attracting some unwanted guests. He stares out at the flickering stars because it’s the only thing he can really do as thick crimson spills out of him, drenching his torn (and recently fixed) suit and staining the dirty concrete beneath him, and he thinks of you.

He remembers the way the corners of your mouth quirk up whenever he tells a dumb dad joke that nobody else finds funny, or has too much pride to admit that it was a good joke. He remembers the feeling of your lips brushing his forehead after every patrol that left him bruised and sliced open, and in so much fucking pain. But seeing you after made it so worth it. He also remembers the clear worry always on your face whenever you try to patch him up, running your fingers lightly over the scars that healed from previous mishaps like he’d shatter if you used any sort of pressure.

Dick misses being around you and staring lovingly into your soul when you aren’t looking. He misses making you flustered for no reason, or maybe it was just to witness the kind of effect he has on you. Maybe it was out of childish revenge for you affecting him the way you did with reddening cheeks and soft smiles and a heart that did somersaults each time he glanced in your direction.

You’re the reason he wants to see another day, another night, so you can make him green tea with honey the way you drink it, or call him stupid for making a dumb Dick Grayson kind of decision; for ‘Nightwinging it.’ He hasn’t patented that one yet. He thinks he should set a reminder for himself when he gets out of here alive and well (the ‘well’ part being relative) and home to you.

Dick really, really wants to hear your voice right now. He wants you to tell him goodnight and good morning and then both of them all over again. He wants to hear his name roll off your tongue in that way where you mean more than just the nickname. And god forbid the last sight that he has to witness be the midnight of the cloudy Gotham sky. Is it actually cloudy, or is his vision just going bleary? Or the even worse case, he’s dying and maybe both of those things were also happening all at once. He gets his answer once he feels a drop land on his cheek, and soon he’s being drenched even further by the Gotham rain.

You’re probably staring out your window now, watching the city be consumed by your favorite kind of weather at your favorite hour. He can always count on your horrible sleep schedule that you always say you’ll fix when he tries to get you to take better care of yourself. Are you waiting for him? It’s not likely, but he still hopes so.

He should tell you he loves you.

He should tell you that he loves you and how you make his knees feel all weak and his heart twist into knots at the sight of your grin when you make fun of him. How he wants to take you to the arcade with Damian and watch you go easy on his brother just to see his smile after he wins. (You’d eventually have to start trying harder so as to not raise any suspicion.) He’d like to hear your laugh after every joke he cracks even when no one else seems to find it as amusing.

Dick has loved and loved and loved, and you just make him want to love even more than he already does. He wants to tell you how pretty you are and how perfect you are for him. He wants to cry and bleed himself dry in your arms.

You asked him something once after he showed up to your apartment out of the blue, half-conscious, and stabbed: “You always take care of everyone, but who’s going to take care of you?”

He replied like Nightwing would, “You’re taking care of me now, aren’t you?”

“You know what I mean.”

Dick has been called many things in his life: Flying Grayson, Robin, Boy Wonder, Nightwing, Batman.

He wants to be Dick Grayson for you.

This may only just be the significant loss of blood talking, but man, does he want to love you in every way you’ll let him. He should call you when he gets out of here, or maybe visit since he hasn’t seen you in almost a week. He’s sure you’ll be angry with how tonight has gone so far, but he’ll sit there all pretty and listen to you with open ears because you just care so much.

The transmitter in his mask is definitely broken after he took one too many blows to the face. He hasn’t been able to reach anyone in the last hour, or however long he’s been laying here. Time passes differently after you’ve been stabbed. Dick doesn’t trust his voice either way.

He bites down hard on his lip to prevent him from crying out as he lifts his arm, slowly inching it over towards his left forearm. The harsh blue light that appears makes his eyes squint. His gloved fingers tremble as he sends out a signal for help—he’s not sure if the red he’s seeing is the alert on the screen or his blood—and it’s only now that he realizes just how dizzy he is.

Dick fights the heaviness of his eyelids, but he’s so exhausted from the fighting, the bleeding, and the even more bleeding. Blacks and blues and reds begin blurring together like a messy oil painting. He huffs, his head hitting the concrete, the rain in his eyes. The moonlight reflects off the blue of his suit. It looks more vibrant, much more alive than he does now.

He wonders if you’re looking at the moon now like he is, and whether or not you’re thinking of him. (Fondly, he wants to add.) Are those sirens that he hears in the distance? Or is that just the sound of Gotham? The constant beating of the rain muffles everything. Your name slips off the tip of his tongue with a cough that looks too red to be any good, and then Dick watches the world around him go dark.

[redhead-batgal]

Can you do a Tim Drake x Reader where the reader is an anti-hero in Gotham and she has a thing with Red Robin and he starts to get busy and kinda wants her to become a hero so they can be partners but the reader sees him as controlling and can you use 2 + 23 from the angst prompts and 17 from the fluff prompts?

Type: One-Shot

Pairing: Fem! and Anti-Hero! Reader x Tim Drake/Red Robin

Prompts: ✢2: “Did I ever really matter to you? Or was it all just a game?” ✢23: “Heroes die young anyways, might as well live as a villain.” ☙17: “Leaving was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” “And why is that?” “Because I’m in love with you.”

Content: Cursing, angst but also fluff and worries

Word Count: 1,087

(P.S. The fluff prompt just made me want to give it a happy ending, plus I'm in a really fluff writing mood.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You hadn't known how painful love could be until you fell for the wrong guy. He was funny, sweet, a complete dork and brilliant. But he was also a vigilante and and controlling.

While it's true you'd been basically with Red Robin for almost a year, it was also true that for some reason he'd been badgering you about switching sides. Going from a criminal into a hero. A vigilante just like him. So, then you'd have to follow his orders. You'd have to be under his watch and control.

It made your mind buzz and scream, thinking about all the reasons why and all the reasons you weren't going to be a hero. Conversations with him and the words you so badly wanted to say but never did.

"Heroes die young anyways, might as well live as a villain."

The words fit so perfectly your opinion. You had heard all about the heroes who had died and sometimes when he went off on missions your heart would go still and throat dry. You would worry about him constantly, worry whether or not he was alive or dead and if he was in danger or safe.

It was tiring. Constantly being worried and knowing you'd either be stuck with the worry or join him. Join his side and turn your back on everything you've ever known.

So, when he got busy, you got lost. At least for a while, that was until you heard he was back in town and looking for you. And though it hurt, though it hurt viciously you avoided him best you could.

However, he was Red Robin and an amazing detective, it didn't take long for him to find you.

"Y/N, stop."

You froze, locking your jaw and shaking your head. He had found you... and-and part of you wondered who had told him. You'd left no trace and hid in a place he wouldn't expect. Used cash and a fake name.

Something people in Gotham do often. So how- even though he was an amazing detective, how did he find you?

You turned seeing him standing in the doorway dressed in costume panting. He looked relief and hurt and every part of you wanted to lean into him, let him talk to you and talk you out of hiding once again. But-but you knew better.

"What? Come to order me around again?"

Red Robin shook his head and you laughed, bitterly; you didn't want to even give him a chance to 'make things right'.

You laughed, feeling something building up in your throat and a stinging starting in your eyes. Letting out a breath you swallowed tears, fighting off the words and shouts you wanted to say but after a year, after so much heart break you couldn't do it.

"Did I ever really matter to you? Or was it all just a game?"

Red Robin flinched and you shook your head, feeling the hot tears spill down your face. Your throat burned and everything began to blur. You couldn't do this anymore. You couldn't take the worry or the pain. Not anymore.

"I-i I can't do this anymore!"

Sniffing you shook your head and wiped at your eyes. Everything was falling apart despite the fact that you so badly want to be with him and so badly wanted him to be safe.

"I'm tired of worrying, I'm tired of having to watch my every move so I don't upset you! I don't want to be controlled! I don't want to have be stuck with the idea of you- and you being dead! Just leave, go away!"

"I'm not going away," He began taking a step closer to you, " I-I'm worried as well and and, I wasn't trying to control you. At least I didn't mean to come across this way. I just thought you'd be safer and-and I want you to be safe. But if you don't want to, if you don't want to, I won't make you."

You narrowed your eyes; your breath hiccupping and you shook your head. You'd been lied to too many times by others and it was clear he was-he was like them. Right?

"I don't believe you, so just go. Leave."

There was silence and you let out a breath shaking your head tears hot on your face.

"Like you did?"

Red Robin-no Tim's voice was cracking, and you heard the pain. Ir was almost as if you felt it yourself. You whorled around to meet his eyes, his actual eyes not ones hidden behind a mask.

“Leaving was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” You snapped hiccupping even more, "you will never understand how difficult it was for me. To hide and leave every time I heard you were back in town. It nearly killed me."

The words raced from your lips making a weight in your chest increase.

“And why is that?” He asked stepping forwards

Throwing your hands out you shouted, "Because I’m in love with you."

Tim blinked and swallowed. His face flushing red and you panted turning away from him. How could you just say that? How could you tell him when you were trying so hard to push him away?

A hand was on your shoulder, and you were spun around coming face to face with him. Face red and mouth twitching Tim looked you in the eyes, clearly reluctantly.

"You-you love me?"

You looked away from him and nodded slowly. Even though you've spent a year of pain and worry you couldn't help but love him. You couldn't help but want to keep him close and keep him alive.

"And-and what do you think I feel about you?"

You blinked, looking towards him. Clearly, he-he... you hadn't thought of it. Did he feel the same or or was it more complicated? Did he just want to control you? If so, why didn't he leave people watching over you when he left? Why didn't he push his ideals more?

"I," You began, "I don't know."

"I feel the same way, idiot!"

You sniffed looking up at him and swatted at him chest.

"Rude." You said.

He smiled and leaned forwards, pressing his forehead against yours he sighed.

"Please don't leave again."

You swallowed and looked at his face pressed against yours. He didn't want you to leave and was asking instead of telling. There was no way he-he was controlling right?

"I'll try." You replied wrapping your arms around him, "I'll try."

Tag List:

@andromedaj2003 @daemonnix96 @zvtanna @masset-fotia @thomasbeloved @thefallingstarlight @krswrites

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

The Kind that Never Slows Down | Damian Wayne

✦ pairing — older!Damian Wayne x female!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 10k

✦ summary — Gotham is hit with a spell that changes your perception of Damian forever.

✦ warnings — nsfw, semi-public sex, non-con sex (not really but just to be safe), angst, language, light jealousy, light possessiveness, mentions of food, smut, unprotected sex (please don’t do this), consensual sex, vaginal sex, cunnilingus, fluff.

✦ author's note — this one should’ve been published a long time ago, but I just got around editing it. Hope you like it.

════════════════════════

The abandoned building smelled like piss and mold, the only light available entered through a broken window, and you were pretty sure you had heard rats roaming around.

But you didn’t care. Robin’s hands were all over you, plump lips sucking on your neck like his life depended on it as he pounded into you.

It wasn’t enough.

He had skipped foreplay on your insistence. You needed him more than anything, if he didn’t fuck you right there in that moment you wouldn’t be able to survive.

He grunted out of pleasure as you clenched around him, gripping your hips to ground himself as he picked up his already relentless pace.

It still wasn’t enough.

Having his cum down your thighs and marks over your neck from his kisses wasn’t enough either. Your body craved all of him, including his whining and abrasive words.

Noise outside prompted him to part from you completely. Both of you fixed yourselves as best as you could in silence, avoiding looking at the other.

You followed him outside with a sense of guilt hovering over you like a dark cloud. You felt like you had just gotten out of a trance after committing the worst of the crimes.

Nightwing stopped you by yelling, “Where were you? I looked for you two everywhere.”

“We were looking for you,” Robin lied smoothly.

Nightwing’s shoulders slumped as he nodded. “Well, Zatana undid the spell.”

Suddenly Damian’s urgent voice as he said he needed you made all the sense in the world. His need for you and your need for him had been magic-induced.

Of course it had been! You two were mere acquaintances who fought all the time for the most minimal things in the world or ignored the other to the point of making people around you uncomfortable. It was a surprise that you worked well together at night.

“A lust spell, right?”

“Well, no,” Nightwing chuckled. “According to her, the spell showed people what their heart desires the most.”

Robin stiffened beside you, and you felt every drop of blood drain from your face and fall to your feet.

“Did you hear a lot of people having sex?”

“Yeah,” you croaked. “Tons of them.”

The moment you got home, you ripped your suit off and walked into the shower. You washed his cum off you, scrubbing your body twice just to make sure.

Wishing the soap could erase the marks on your neck and the memory of the way he had moaned your name, you decided to take a pill to sleep.

You hadn’t needed one of those in months, but Damian was that special. Or annoying.

God, you hated him and his stupid ego. He would surely find funny the lengths you would have to go to put this in the past.

He loved being the center of attention as much as he hated you, that was why you always tried your best to avoid him. When you didn’t avoid him, he made weird faces at you and scoffed every time you laughed.

Turning the lamp off, you hoped for the best.

Meanwhile, Damian ignored Dick’s inquiries. Why did his brother care if he was extremely quiet or if he looked like he was about to explode?

Your scent was all over him, still bewitching him, overpowering his sweat and the smell of everybody around him.

Looking down at his hands, the gloved palms that had hours before gripped and traced as much of your body as your suit had allowed him to, Damian clenched his jaw.

How could he have been so stupid? There was no other reason for you to beg him to fuck you the way you had — magic! He fucking hated magic.

But Dick’s explanation... that was worse. More stupid. He hated it too. His brother had to be wrong.

It wouldn’t be the first time someone from his family was wrong regarding magic, and Zatanna while an expert had her own biases.

Besides, his heart could have been desiring to get off the most just like yours. The two of you were busy people after all.

“Did the spell show you anything, Dami?”

The prettiest face he had seen in his entire life. “A pet demon.”

He regretted the lie the moment he said it. Damian wished a lot of things could be different. His mother would be furious if she knew how sentimental he was becoming, if she found out how often he gave into wishful thinking.

For once, he wanted to be open. But as always something was stopping him. Sometimes he wondered if he had been born to be like that or if his grandfather had simply lied.

Leaving the cave the moment he was dismissed, he trotted upstairs almost praying Dick wouldn’t follow him.

He couldn’t stop replaying the way you clung to him, or the harshness of your kiss. It had felt real, and too perfect to be happening to him all at once.

But you hated him, everybody and their mother knew that.

════════════════════════

Barbara had never been subtle around you. There had never been a need for such a thing — she was like the older sister you never had, you two carried the other’s secrets and burdens.

Back when you met her, barely as a teen, she provided a safe place you only had ever dreamt of having. You vowed to give it all back; she deserved it.

“What’s up with the turtleneck?” She asked, unsubtly so with her bright eyes on your neck.

“I have a cold,” you feigned a rasp. Perhaps this secret wouldn’t be shared.

“Mmmh. Really?” She poured herself a cup of coffee. “Dick said Damian was feeling under the weather too.”

Yup. Definitely not sharing. It would be embarrassing. She had always had the theory that you were in love with Damian just because you complained about him on a weekly basis.

It was like she had never met him.

In a way, the theory was correct. But it lacked a lot of details — a spell had confirmed it from all things. It sounded ironic, quite suitable to your situation.

“Flu season, I guess.”

It was a bad lie. Everybody knew when flu season arrived because Tim started getting a stuffy nose and limiting his consumption of Red Bull in order to drink more water.

”Did the spell from the other night show you anything?”

You faked a cough, shaking your head. “I was busy on patrol.”

“I was too and I saw Dick.”

“That’s just wishful thinking, Babs. It’s cute, though.”

Her not seeing Dick would have surprised you. They had known each other for years, gone through so much together... most people wanted what they had.

“Is there a particular reason why you’re lying to me?”

You wrapped your fingers around your mug. The heat transferring from the ceramic to your palm reminded you of Damian’s breath on your lips.

Taking a gulp of coffee, you blinked rapidly. “You don’t think it’s cute?”

She rolled her eyes. “Everybody saw something. It’s how those spells work.”

“There must be something wrong with me.”

There really had to be something awfully wrong with you. Saying out loud that you wanted Damian more than anything in the world terrified you.

It was a normal thing. Not wanting him specifically, but wanting someone — everybody craved attention and love at some level, you just happened to crave Damian’s at every single one.

He was the problem, not you.

════════════════════════

Movie marathons weren’t something Damian really cared for, but they were better than hearing his father complain about minor things like if he had ruined a goon’s lungs or whatever.

Alfred called it bonding time which he supposed was a fair assessment. He found Tim’s taste in movies quite good, and now he didn’t get the urge to strangle his slightly older brother in his sleep.

His stepmother was there too. Selina had been the reason why Bruce shifted his ways, she urged him to either find a balance or stop adding people to the team.

Duke made him pass a bowl of popcorn to Tim who did the same to Stephanie. The bowl landed on Dick who was on the row behind them, just next to Jason.

Getting more comfortable on his seat, his eyes fell on the empty spot to Duke’s right. Cassandra used to sit there until one afternoon Duke couldn’t seem to shut up and she asked you to switch places. You always went with the things Duke said, sometimes even asked his opinion.

Damian complained once, telling his sister to suck it up next time. But Cassandra would never do something he told her to, that was perhaps why she was his favorite.

Everyone around him was in an amazing mood which he didn’t understand. Bruce had just tried to tell a joke, and Jason was mocking how dumb it was.

Selina laughed loudly, in that way people did when they felt genuinely happy. At least that was what he supposed; Damian wasn’t sure he had ever experienced happiness.

The sound of an approaching wheelchair made his ears perk up. Not a single pair of shoes could be heard against the floor. Fighting a frown, he turned to look at the door.

Barbara waved at all of them with a smile, maneuvering her wheelchair to sit next to Dick’s seat. Craning his neck with the excuse of saying hi, Damian watched her give Dick a chaste kiss.

“Where’s (Nickname)?” Dick asked, lifting his arm to rest it on the back of Barbara’s chair.

“She said she was feeling sick. Although...” Barbara giggled, leaning onto Dick’s arm. “I heard the voice of a guy in the background so she might have company.”

Damian felt sick upon hearing such a thing. First, you had asked to be paired up with Duke for patrol and now this? It was too much even for your pettiness — granted, he had planned on putting more distance between you two, but he hadn’t gone around trying to find someone to erase you.

The thought never crossed him, not for a single moment. He had wondered why he wished to cling to a memory when he had never been the sentimental type, but he realized that to be the entire point of deep desires.

“Well, it’s time,” Stephanie commented, “she’s been single for too long.”

“Let’s hope we don’t have to scare him off,” Selina added.

Damian stood up from the now uncomfortable seat, forcing Duke to do the same so he could leave. Duke stared at him weirdly, with worry, as if he knew something Damian didn’t want him to.

He probably did. Damian had been careless two times in a row. God, he needed to get a fucking grip. Unconsciously, he fiddled with the neck of his sweater.

“Oi,” Jason called for him, “where are you going?”

“Out,” he answered angrily. “If other... members... may skip this, why can’t I?”

Barbara and Dick shared a sideways glance.

Only telling Alfred that he would be back later, Damian followed the path towards the garage. Skipping his bike for once, finding himself thinking he wanted to take as little shortcuts as possible for whatever reason, he took his car.

Damian had always been a fan of driving. He didn’t know why, it was tedious and didn’t serve many purposes in the grand scheme of things; not to him. Ever since he learned, he took every opportunity he got to drive whichever vehicle he could get his hands on.

Having control over vehicles and machines was nice, he supposed. If people were a little bit more like said things, everything would have been easier. The world would be boring, but easier to habit.

Saving people was easy, caring about them from afar gave him enough human interaction for his standards, but he would never understand them.

And for the first time since he tried to decode his mother’s attitude, he wanted to understand someone more than anything. Perhaps that way said someone would understand him back and untangle this mess.

The building before him wasn’t welcoming. He had never put foot into that place, but he knew every single person that lived there — patrol gave him that kind of knowledge. And he did some research months ago, but no one needed to be aware of such thing.

He pressed his ear to the door he had been looking for. The dishwasher was on, but he couldn’t pick up any other sound. Damian knocked on said door three times, quickly and loudly. There was no answer so he did it again. A door slammed shut inside the apartment, a groan accompanied by a string of curses got clearer as stomps approached him.

Standing tall and straight, he felt a thrill down his spine as the lock was loudly fiddled with.

You swung the door open, rubbing your eye. He observed you had thrown a turtleneck on, upside down. Damian walked past you without invitation, analyzing the living room.

There were no clothes scattered all over the floor like he had imagined he would find.

“What are you doing here?”

He ignored you, exploring the kitchen. Damian opened the fridge, narrowing his eyes as he inspected. He did the same with the cupboards.

Shoving your bedroom door open, he found the bed undone. The TV was on, playing an old movie. He heard your steps as you followed him, repeating your question.

“Is someone from the team in danger?” You asked next.

Damian pulled your closet open, tilting his head. You could’ve been more organized, he admitted to himself, but there was nothing unusual.

Craning his neck to look at you, he inquired, “Where is he?”

“Where’s who?! What’s going on?”

He stared at you, waiting for you to crack. To his surprise, you stared back — defiant, blinking less and less as the seconds passed.

You were mad, he could tell. It only made him grow more suspicious. Tensing under your eyes, sharp instead of soft like they usually were, he scoffed; he couldn’t show he cared.

“Dude,” you insisted, “you are scaring me. What happened?”

Shaking his head, he pushed past you again and continued his search. The bathroom was warm, the mirror fogged up and tiles sprinkled with drops of water.

He turned around, watching you again. Well, your hair was wet now that he paid more attention to it...

Damian checked in the small laundry room too, but he found bottles of detergent and folded towels next to your suit. Nothing else. No one else.

“Damian—“

“Shut up.” He pointed at you with a finger.

“You are the one who came to my place to look for whatever or whoever you are searching for! Unprompted!”

He didn’t answer.

You went back to your bedroom to turn the TV off and pause the movie, resigned to the fact that he had ruined your self-care day.

No one knew you would be home that day. You had ignored everybody’s calls and avoided being active on social media just in case they were stalking you. Turns out the utmost secrecy isn’t enough to avoid Damian Wayne.

He stood in the living room, looking down at the coffee table as if expecting the furniture to turn into something else. Fixing his eyes on the centerpiece he knew Dick had given you as a gift because it reminded him of you, Damian furrowed his brows.

“Have you been alone the entire day?” He asked, feeling your presence behind him.

“My neighbor brought some cake. Other than that, yeah.”

“Barbara said you had... company.”

“I haven’t talked to Babs in days.”

Barbara had continued asking about what you saw that night with the spell, and you weren’t willing to say it still. Weeks had passed, but it felt like mere seconds had at times. It was so easy for her to ask, to assume things.

Only you knew the conflict you were feeling. She would never understand how awful it was to find out the one you desire the most is the one who likes you the least.

You had entertained the naive idea that he was in the same position, but the more you replayed what had happened, the more you convinced yourself it had been one-sided. He gave in because the release was pleasant, nothing else. People say things they don’t mean while having sex.

You had done it before, for fuck’s sake. You had faked having a good time before, who was to say Damian hadn’t done the same with you?

“Have you seen anybody else?” He blurted.

“My neighbor, I told you.”

He reformulated, “Have you had sex with anybody else?”

You considered lying, you really did. It would make the tension go away, you would have to see him around with other people but it would save you from a lot of embarrassment.

A part of you told you it was stupid, that you wouldn’t be able to take it. Much less when the people who usually took some interest in you tended to ghost you for whatever reason.

“Not since that night, if that’s what you’re asking,” you admitted.

“Good.” It slipped, but he didn’t care. He meant it, and it felt nice to say things he meant, no matter how harsh they could sound.

You rounded the room, crossing your arms as you stood in front of him. “Why are you here?”

“I was told you had company,” he repeated himself.

“And your logic was to interrupt me?”

“Yes.”

You couldn’t believe him. Did he want you to be alone and miserable your entire life?

The worst part was that you would probably be. Finding out you liked him, that you wanted to have him around, that you craved his attention, and his touch, rocked your world and shattered it.

Who would ever compare to him? His flaws were other people’s better qualities, even you who didn’t know his good side that well was aware of that.

“Do you really hate me that much? I’ve never done anything to you!”

He finally lifted his head. You wished he hadn’t, you wished you didn’t have to see anything other than anger in his handsome features. “I don’t hate you. I would make your life a living hell if I did.”

“You could’ve fooled me,” you chuckled, way more sadly than you thought yourself capable to feel regarding anything that came from him. “You roll your eyes at me every time I visit your house, Damian.”

“It’s not intended at you.”

“The scoffs sure are,” you reproached him, “and your stupid comments of how unfunny anything that makes me laugh is.”

“It’s not because of you,” he shouted. Shaking his head, vexed, he twisted his mouth as he huffed his anger out through his nose. “Cassandra’s jokes aren’t even that funny.”

“See?”

“Why don’t you laugh at mine?” He reproached now, crossing his arms to mimic your stance. “Why is it always one of my siblings or my friends who get a positive response but not me?”

“Oh, come on! You’re saying that like I didn’t come by hearing you say my name a few weeks ago!” Your words stunned him into silence which you used to your advantage. “You never tell jokes in front of me, how am I supposed to laugh at them? I always feel like shit because you only accept being around me on patrol, you entrench yourself in your room and make a point to slam the door shut just so I hear... you know what? Forget it.”

“I hate seeing you with them,” he said, wishing his words hadn’t carried that much emotion. “I always bribe people to not ask you out or to leave you alone, I have to watch you hug Jon and kiss my siblings’ faces. You’re always so damn nice until I appear... I prefer being alone than enduring your indifference.”

You widened your eyes. “You bribe people to not ask me out?!”

“Is that the only upsetting part from everything I said?” he snapped.

“No, no. Of course not. I just...”

He hummed. “It’s stupid, I know.”

“A waste of money, honestly.”

“If I didn’t, you would be with someone else right now. Probably Duke, you’ve always liked him.”

“You bribed Duke?” You let a small laugh out. “Duke? Our Duke?”

“Yes! Stop mocking me.”

“Duke knows everything, you know?” You admitted, uncrossing your arms.

You hadn’t been able to keep things to yourself for that long. Seeing Damian around suddenly hurt. The feeling had always been there, but finding out that he was your heart’s deepest desire wrecked your perception

When you told Duke, he reacted casually, as if you had told him the most obvious thing in the world. He said you and Damian were the only ones who hadn’t seen it.

“He knew certain things before I did, in fact,” you added. “Besides, I see him as a brother and he sees me as a sister.”

Damian nodded. It made sense, now Duke’s attitude seemed normal in comparison to what Damian had assumed.

He always assumed things. Bruce had told him once that he needed to learn to ask before acting out — this was the first time Damian found his father’s words useful.

“Why did you kiss me that night?”

“I believe it was more than kissing.”

“Yes.” Damian hadn’t been able to forget, he never would. “But why?”

“I felt... I don’t know how to explain it,” you confessed.

The room suddenly felt small, extremely hot. You shed the stupid turtleneck, it wasn’t like he hadn’t done the stubborn marks on your neck.

Make-up had hidden them well for a few days, and most of them had faded already, but there were two bite-marks, too big and deep, that needed more healing time.

“I was scared,” you told him, “that’s why I felt the rush to take your hand. And it was enough for a while, but then it wasn’t, I wanted you closer.”

“I couldn’t breathe. I assumed I was being poisoned. Then you took my hand and I panicked for a moment, I thought...” his voice broke.

You gave him time, trying your hardest to hide how surprised you were by hearing him like that.

“I thought you were having the same symptoms,” he rasped. “I’ve been trained to fight those things off, but you haven’t and I knew you would die. Your hand made it better for a few minutes, then I needed you closer too.”

“We can forget about it if you want,” you assured him, avoiding looking at his face in case your comment relieved him.

“I don’t.”

Damian reached for your hand in the same fashion you had that cursed —literally— night, shakily, urgently.

And in the same fashion he had, you allowed him to take it.

He brought you closer to him. You observed he looked more tired than ever, perhaps because things had been tense for the past weeks. You couldn’t have possibly looked too different.

“The spell doesn’t have to dictate this,” he said, tilting his head to look into your eyes. “It won’t. You know I don’t trust magic.”

“The spell is not the problem,” you whispered.

“I didn’t think there was a problem.”

“We have never spent time together outside of patrol, Damian.”

He sighed, nodding. “Get changed. Let’s go out.”

Only a lunatic would give their self-care day up for a guy. Well, you didn’t really care if people thought you were a lunatic, and Damian wasn’t just a guy — still, giving up the ice cream in your fridge was a sin.

A sin you were happy to commit.

Damian waited for you to get changed, patiently if anyone asked you. It had taken you a few minutes to even choose something appropriate, based on his own outfit because that was just logic.

He slipped his cellphone into his pocket while you locked the door. As you turned around to take off, he offered his hand.

You took it, intertwining your fingers with his as you walked down the hallway. In the middle of the stairway, you bumped into one of your neighbors who smiled sweetly at both of you. To your surprise, Damian smiled back.

Also surprised to discover he hadn’t taken his bike, you bowed as a thank you when he opened the door of his car for you.

“Do you want to put some music on?” he offered.

“You pick,” you said, curious as to what he would play.

You could’ve sworn he was nervous as he stared down at his phone, looking for something to play. He scrolled down, then up — he switched apps, then continued scrolling.

“I’m not picky.” Your tone was soft, an attempt to assure him.

“I don’t really listen to a variety of genres.”

“What do you listen to the most?”

“Classical. My mother got me used to it.”

You rested the side of your head on the backrest of the seat, looking at him. “You can play that if you want. Or we can just talk about the weather and whatnot. I think it might rain tonight. You like rain, right?”

He locked his cellphone, turning to face you. “Yes. It calms me.”

“I hated it as a kid,” you disclosed, hoping it would ease the tension and better his mood. “I was scared of thunderstorms.”

Igniting the engine, he prompted you to continue, “Not anymore?”

“No. My mom used to tell me that the only reason why they were so noisy was that the sky was happy to unwind and eventually I believed it.”

“That’s cute.”

“I had a phase in which I was in a bad mood if it didn’t rain.” You laughed at your own comment. “Now I like it just fine, less obsessively.”

“I had a similar fixation with snow.” He laughed too, and your stomach did somersaults — it was the first time you had heard him laugh genuinely.

Damian didn’t talk about life at The League often, he didn’t feel compelled when he knew the preconceptions that came with simply mentioning the place or his maternal family.

In fact, everything Batman Inc.’s members knew had been from Bruce. He liked the secrecy, those were parts of him and no one else. But he was willing to share tiny pieces with you.

He saw it as something supposed to be shared between two people interested in starting a relationship.

So he continued, “I would only climb mountains if they were covered by snow. My mother called me a brat many times, but she gave into my wishes for a while.”

“How did you grow out of it?”

“I broke my elbow.” He briefly looked to the side and then took a turn. “I proved her right, and I didn’t like not having the last word so I started despising the snow. I don’t mind it now.”

Before you could ask anything else, he pulled into the grocery store’s parking lot.

He picked a basket once inside the store, making a motion for you to follow him.

“What are we buying?”

“Fruit and whatever you want for a picnic.”

Realizing you weren’t near the fruits aisle, you gripped his sweater, steering him to the other side. Of course he wasn’t used to doing groceries.

He silently allowed you to guide him which was a win, Damian hated being told what to do no matter how small the suggestion was.

It didn’t take either of you too long to get everything you needed, but he spent ten minutes choosing a blanket as if he wouldn’t ruin the poor thing with mud and insects.

Passing the clothing area on your way to do checkout, you elbowed him on the side. He stared down at you, then followed your eyes as he realized they were fixed on something.

Damian groaned. “You’re so funny.”

“Oh, come on! You’re telling me you wouldn’t buy Batman underwear?”

“No.”

“You’re lying.”

“I am not.”

You narrowed your eyes, keeping your laugh in when you saw what resembled a pout on his face. “Robin’s?” you tried.

“Perhaps.”

You lost it at that. “Are they comfy?”

“Will you stop laughing if I say yes?”

“Only if it’s the truth.”

He just nodded, then did the gesture upward so you would resume the path towards the exit.

Pleased with his answer, you walked towards the checkout line. Damian stood behind you, breathing your scent in.

“Is that a new perfume?”

You craned your neck. “How did you know?”

Shrugging, hoping he was being nonchalant enough, he said, “I have a good nose.”

After a brief fight over who would pay for the groceries, —which he won by saying it had been his idea—, you left the store in direction of the park.

Your hand found his naturally, as if your palm’s place was to be pressed against his bigger one.

It felt good, but not really because of that bullshit —true, but bullshit still when magic was so unpredictable— of him being what your heart desired the most. The truth was that you could feel in his grip how much he wanted this to go well.

Swinging your clasped hands, you walked around the park, looking for the perfect spot to sit at.

You found a spot away from the kids running around, against a tree. Damian laid the blanket on the grass, placing the paper bags onto it next.

He slid an arm around your shoulders, using his other hand to eat.

“Do you think your family is already spying on us?” you asked gazing at him as you leaned onto his arm.

“I am certain.”

“You don’t mind?”

He lightly smiled at you, reaching for a strawberry. “Not at all. Do you?”

“Nah. I’m not looking forward to Barbara’s teasing, though.”

“Why did she tell us you had a guy over?” He bit down into the fruit.

“She has always said I have feelings for you.” You wiped the corner of his mouth with your thumb. It never occurred to either of you that you would need napkins. “And I guess she put two and two together when we covered our necks and used the same excuse.”

“In my defense, I could have blamed Tim.”

“In my defense,” you copied his smart-ass tone, “I didn’t want to talk about it.”

“You told Duke from all people.”

“Duke was supportive.”

Damian hummed sarcastically. “I’m sure everybody knows the details already. He loves to gossip.”

Seeing you frown before you turned to look to the other side, he reached for your farthest cheek, softly pushing your face so you would stare at him.

“I don’t care if they know.”

You wished you could have believed him. “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have avoided me the same way I avoided you.”

“I cared,” he clarified, “not anymore.”

“What changed?”

“Me, my priorities… my vision of you, of this.”

You took an apple in your hand. Rolling the fruit in your grasp, you only nodded. Saying something else would have been nice, appropriate even, but words escaped you.

The fact that he didn’t hate you was still pretty new, shocking to some extent. His willingness to be seen with you by family and strangers alike was a huge compliment, and a big deal.

It was too serious so suddenly… you liked it no matter how scary it was. There had to be a reason why he felt so sure about this, and trusting Damian had never been a bad idea.

Except from that time when you ended up with stitches all over your arm, but you could let that go if it meant having him by your side. As corny as it sounded.

“Meetings will be weird, won’t they?” You sunk your teeth into the apple, hearing him chuckle.

“Less awkward, I hope. Although I enjoy vexing my siblings.”

“We can have fake fights in front of them if you want.”

“And blame them for our nonexistent problems?”

“Of course, I’m sure they will try to give their input either way.”

Damian groaned. He feared just that. It would be out of a place of care, he knew, but it didn’t make it less intrusive — he could picture Dick, sitting down in front of him in the cave, with a big smile and dangling his finger as he told him the way he was supposed to treat you.

He liked to imagine that Cassandra would only threaten him. Perhaps Stephanie would do the same and stop Tim from patronizing him.

Not wanting to ruin the moment by thinking what would Jason and Duke do, he shifted and changed the subject to the movie you had been watching earlier.

You explained that it had been one of your favorites and told him the plot between bites, amused by the fact that he was trying to look interested even though you knew it wasn’t his type of movie.

He told you about the movies the team was supposed to watch that day. You didn’t feel guilty for skipping; as much as you loved them, you needed time for yourself.

Spending time with Damian on this occasion counted as time for yourself, although you would make yourself clear to him that you would eventually need alone time for real. It was a mere exception.

The two of you walked around the park for a while, talking about random things. He was surprisingly easy to talk to once you tried, and God did you try.

It couldn’t get better than hearing him speak casually, about the architecture nearby and the types of flora around the park, in a light tone and with his hand in yours.

Your fingers played with his, and once again you found yourself in awe of him, of how comfortable he was with the mindless gesture and his willingness to keep up with it. You doubted someone would ever surprise you as much as Damian did.

Slowing down a little bit to take the scenery in, you naturally tightened the grip of your fingers on his.

It was such a nice day to be outside… perhaps the weather cast had been wrong and it wouldn’t rain.

The city was bathed in a pink glow as the sun set, unrecognizable. No one would have guessed such scenery to take place in a deeply violent and corrupted place, not even the most optimistic person in the world.

You remembered clearly how surprised Jon had been the first time he saw something other than thundering rain and gray skies in Gotham.

Glittering under the sunlight, the flowers at the end of the playground looked alive for once as the sky stunned many around you. And when you turned to look at Damian, curious about his reaction, you found his eyes solely on you.

The trees, so green under the light of dusk, had nothing on Damian’s eyes. Such thought, so familiar that you felt as though it wasn’t the first time it crossed your mind, so natural that you found it a fact and not an opinion, made you forget about everything around you.

He continued gazing at you, finding the curiosity in your beautiful eyes flattering. Oh, how much he enjoyed being the object of your attention.

The scenery behind you was gorgeous, he was certain of it. In his opinion, you complimented the view in ways nothing would ever do — there was something in your peaceful semblance as you tore your gaze off the sky and admired him instead.

You could’ve been sharing a silent moment with the strangers around you, one of those things he had heard you say once made the world make sense, yet your eyes were on him, on his face. And it made him feel important like nothing before had.

His father’s praises, the ones he had sought for so long were nothing in comparison. Dick’s patience although fundamental to his development as a man fell short against the way your eyes were shining for him.

Twilight swirled around you, but his eyes never left your face nor yours did his. The world didn’t exist, and if it existed, then it didn’t matter — not when you found him worth all your attention, not when he thought you to be brighter than the sun itself.

The air in the car as he drove you back to your place was thick and tense. He hadn’t said a word since he told you about that time Bruce inaugurated the school across the park.

Damian looked lost in thought, like often you had seen him while out on patrol. The places his mind took him had never compromised his performance — you admired that.

Bruce had called him out an infinite amount of times, but he couldn’t do anything else when Damian always delivered. You had wondered how he did it many times, but now you had to assume Talia taught him.

He walked you into the building, fingers brushing your wrist as you fell in natural silence.

Fumbling for your keys, you felt him lean onto the wall just next to your door. You took more time than needed to open the door, hoping he would say or do something.

When he didn’t, you pushed the door open and turned on your heel to face him.

“I had an amazing day with you,” he said, eyes on yours.

You breathed out, “I did too.”

Why couldn’t the day last longer? You logically knew you would see him again, but something inside you wanted him to stay. You wanted him to stay, better said.

Would it be too bold, too sudden, to invite him in? He probably had patrol that night — hell, you were supposed to be getting into your suit at that moment instead of pondering on whether you were brave enough to imply you wanted to spend more time with him; preferably in your room, naked.

Fuck it. If he said no, you would say you had patrol either way.

“Do you want to co—“

“Yes,” he answered before you could finish the question, letting a relieved sigh out.

You pulled him into the apartment, arm around his neck as you used your other hand to close the door.

His lips fell on yours as he kissed you slowly, arms delicately around your plump form. He took his time to map your lips with his own, somewhat afraid of kissing you wrong.

Damian grew confident as you attempted to kiss him more firmly, as steadily as your giddiness allowed you to. Tasting the fruit he had eaten earlier off his tongue, you wrapped your other arm around his torso, bringing him closer.

Smiling on your lips, he angled his face, kissing you with the same urgency he had the other night.

Eagerly, he tangled his tongue with yours until both of you were panting in search of air. As you caught your breath, Damian fiddled with the ends of your turtleneck.

Clearing his throat, he asked, “Can I take this off? It’s getting in the way.”

“I can take it off—“

“I would like to do it, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t,” you assured him.

Damian slid the turtleneck off you slowly, huffing a small laugh when the blouse you were wearing under inched up. Placing the item to the side, he leaned to kiss your jaw.

Placing your hands on his sides, you slanted your head upon feeling his lips travel down to your neck.

He kissed the bite-mark left from before, softly, giving it small pecks. “Did I go overboard with this one?”

“A little bit. It’s been a pain in the ass to cover.”

“I’ll be more careful from now on,” he promised, leaving more light kisses over the area.

Your pulse quickened at the implication of his words. Damian felt the rush of blood on your jugular where he scattered wet kisses.

He trailed his lips up, breathing in your ear. You shuddered, fighting a whine as your hands looked for the hem of his crewneck sweater.

You inched the sweater up to his chest and waited for him to stand straight so you would be able to take it off. Damian was too busy kissing your face to care.

“Hey,” you did whine this time. “Damian, let me take it off.”

Smirking on your cheek, he hummed. Slowly, painfully so, he pulled away from you.

Once you had gotten rid of the sweater, you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him into a kiss. He curled his arm around you again, wanting you flush against him.

He slid his hand down and took a handful of your ass, making you buckle your hips up. Dragging his lips to your jaw again, he said, “Your stupid suit didn’t let me do that last time.”

One of your hands stayed on his shoulder while the other landed on his hip. Your fingers played with the loops of his jeans as he continued gripping and grabbing your ass like he had never touched one.

Angling your face, you attached your lips to his neck. Damian’s grip on you tightened.

“I want to take it slow,” he whispered, “but you’re making it really hard.”

“Metaphorically?” You mouthed his throat, hand sliding down to his chest, squeezing itself between both your bodies.

“And literally,” he whined. You loved the sound, for once not demanding yet still bratty.

As your hand slipped downward, you continued kissing his neck, paying special attention to the juncture of his neck and shoulder. You hoped your lipstick wouldn’t dirty his shirt — or maybe you hoped it would, both were fine with you.

Damian put some space between you, understanding what you were trying to do. While you undid his jeans, he undid yours, considering it would be better to get rid of everything on his way now that he was still feeling patient.

Shoes and socks off, the two of you shed your jeans without care of where they landed. Now the living room’s floor truly was covered in scattered items of clothing and this time Damian enjoyed the view.

“Come here.” He reached for you, eyes on your chest as his hands ghosted your sides.

You looked up at him, unable to hide the enjoyment you got from his hungry eyes being all over you. Following their movements, you also observed their slow dilatation.

He inched a hand up your side. You assumed he would finally knead your breast but he merely ghosted its outline, head tilted as he watched his own hand move.

For a few moments, he only did that, almost as if he was in a trance. The warmth of your own palm on his lower abdomen as your fingers brushed the elastic of his boxers made him react.

You pushed him back, towards your bedroom, pulling the door open and shoving him inside. He smiled, lifting his arms in mock surrender.

Damian sat down on your bed, relishing into the smell of everything you owned — the bedding smelled like a mix of fabric softener and your delicious new heady perfume.

You got the urge to kiss his entire face, hands on his shoulders as he slanted his head back for you to do it comfortably. He relished on the gesture too, so spontaneous and warming.

He placed his hands on the backs of your thighs, urging you to straddle him. Watching you second guess yourself, he drew you closer to encourage you.

Giving a last kiss to his nose, you complied. Damian snaked his arms around your waist, a pleased smile pressing against your chin before he kissed your mouth.

You bit his lip, tugging on it. He crashed his lips against yours again just to then do the same himself, intentionally bitting harder than you had.

A moan escaped you. Feeling his cock twitch under your navel, you rocked your hips to watch his reaction.

His arms tightened around you as he tutted against your core. “This is the reason why I never train with you,” he groaned.

“I thought it was because I almost broke Tim’s leg once.”

“Don’t mention anyone else right now.”

Right. You had forgotten he had been jealous earlier.

Damian rolled over, switching places with you. He kissed you before you could pout, cradling your face with one hand while he held himself up with the other.

You placed a hand on his upper back while the other rested on the side of his neck, kissing him back with the same amount of passion he was kissing you.

He had you breathless in a matter of seconds, and as he broke the kiss, you saw his nostrils flare in attempts to catch his breath quickly.

Trailing kisses down your neck, he dropped his hand to your breast. This time he kneaded it, humming against your skin when you reacted with a small sound. His thumb brushed your nipple, playing with it while he busied himself with leaving marks on your chest.

So much for being careful, huh. At least those were easier to hide.

“Do you want me to eat you out?” He asked bluntly.

“If you’re in the mood.”

He kneeled on the bed, hooking his thumbs in your panties to slide them down. You lifted your hips to help him out, laughing when he threw your underwear behind him with little care.

You opened your legs for him, finding a comfortable position as he stayed there, taking all of you in, completely naked and at his mercy.

He kissed your thighs first, teasingly nibbling on them. Every time he got closer to the center, to where now you needed him instead of only wanting him, he pulled away and went back to your thigh.

Slowly, he dragged his index finger up and down your folds. Damian rested his chin on your right thigh as he watched his finger collect and smear your wetness, proud of the fact that he was the one who had made you wet. No one else.

Your breath hitched in expectant excitement as you saw him finally bury his head between your thighs. His tongue followed the same path his finger had outlined, at the same rhythm.

“You taste even better than I imagined,” he praised, licking his bottom lip clean.

As he gradually increased his rhythm, licking long stripes along your folds, you got bolder and urged him to be firmer by pushing your hips upward.

He moaned against your pussy, playfully sucking your labia to let you know he got the message.

Bringing an arm up to pin your hips back down, he used his other hand to open your legs a little bit more and part your labia.

Damian pressed his tongue on your clit, moving it gently at first. He wanted to know exactly what you liked and how. It didn’t take him long to switch between using his lips and his tongue which earned him a loud moan.

His hand caressed your thigh, eventually sliding between the mattress and your body to grab your asscheek.

You whined his name, reaching down to hold the back of his head. It was clear to you that he was enjoying every sound he managed to make you blurt, and it felt really good, but you needed more.

Out of nowhere, he tugged on your hips to slide you down the bed. Kneeling on the floor, he sucked fervently on your clit.

You fisted the duvet, begging him to keep going. Damian complied happily, mouth latched on your clit as your pussy swallowed his moans and the four walls of your bedroom made yours bounce.

They were music to his ears and his entire body. He could feel the tingling all over him, excitement and pride flowing through his bloodstream.

Massaging your ass, he couldn’t help but chuckle upon feeling both your hands on his head now. He allowed you to push his face farther in, not once slowing down.

Your hips bucked up and instead of restraining you, he moved with you. If you moved up he did down and vice versa. You got louder and he marveled at how responsive you were to him.

He growled, gripping your ass with force as he sucked on your clit until his cheeks were hollow. He let go only to repeat the motion, letting his tongue wander when he needed a break.

You tugged on his hair, squealing. Your body tensed in his grasp, prompting him to continue with his ministrations. Feeling the tremor in your legs as you tried to settle back down on the bed, he started lapping tenderly.

You caressed his hair, panting with your eyes closed. Damian lifted his head, hands softly dancing over your thighs as he stood up.

Feeling him hover over you, you opened your eyes albeit with a little difficulty. His mouth and chin glistened with your slick, wanton eyes inspecting your semblance.

“Do you want me to suck you off?” you rasped before clearing your throat.

He caressed your sweaty cheek. “Later.”

“Bu—“

He shut you up with a kiss. “Later, please? I just want to be inside you.”

Nodding against him, you kissed him again. Tasting yourself off his tongue was addictive. You held him still for a moment, licking your slick off his gorgeous face.

Damian growled, deep and loud this time, hands already on your waist. “Should I wear a condom this time?”

“No. Unless you want to?”

He shook his head. He didn’t want a single thing to keep him from feeling you fully. Damian stood from the bed. “Get on all fours.”

You rolled on your side first to then do as he had told you, holding your breath as you waited for him to stand behind you.

He rested a hand on your hip. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” you gave him your consent.

Damian entered you slowly, little by little, less worried about hurting you and more about making you feel every inch of him as his cock filled you.

You breathed out through a whine. He gave you time to adjust to his size, leaning to kiss the scar on your back.

Wanting to stay like that forever, you waited more than you should have to. If he was aware, he decided to be patient — such thing only made you grow wetter.

“Go ahead,” you told him, hoping you didn’t sound too desperate.

Reaching over, he gripped your hands. “You feel amazing, beloved.” He kissed your shoulder, nibbling on your skin as he rocked his hips.

God, you didn’t know if his comment had been what flattered you or the pet name. Either way, hearing them was as amazing as the way he felt inside you, filling you like no one before him had.

His hands left yours. He opted for placing them firmly on your hips and thrust into you steadily, keeping you from moving too much.

Humming in pleasure, you held the edge of the bed in anticipation. He went faster exponentially, calculating every single one of his thrusts.

Having control over his thrusts and the movement of your hips was nice and all, but he needed you closer.

Slapping your thigh, he croaked out, “On your back.”

You missed his girth the second he parted from you so you could change positions, it made you feel empty.

Damian helped you get comfortable, holding your thighs open before you got the urge to rub them. He smirked when you glared at him, hand leaving one of your legs to hold his cock.

He penetrated you again, bottoming out immediately as he made himself comfortable on top of you.

“Fuck, Damian!”

His hips snapped forward involuntarily. Both of you moaned at the same time, he pushed against your g-spot and you throbbed around him.

His movements were rougher like this, wilder. It was as though he wanted to prove a point to himself, you didn’t know which and you didn’t care as long as he fucked you like he needed to be inside you in order to be complete.

“Say my name again,” he rasped the command.

And how could you deny him? You repeated his name as many times as your moans allowed you like a broken chant.

Damian’s pace got quicker every time he heard his name fall from your lips, a tad uneven as he allowed himself to get lost in the pleasure the mix of everything was bringing him — your walls gripping his cock, your hoarse moans and the angelic way honey dripped from your voice when you called for him.

You dragged your nails all over his back, moaning and whimpering in his ear. He was so loud in your own ear, saying things in Arabic that you couldn’t understand in such a fervent tone that you weren’t sure if you would come because he was fucking you into oblivion or because of his strained voice.

Hearing your name slip in his prayer-like monologue, you cried out upon feeling your stomach get tighter. You clung to his shoulders, letting him ram into you in unsteady thrusts that went from slow to hammering in seconds.

His tongue slipped, Damian started switching between languages. Grip on you tightening to the point of being bruising, he begged, “I need you to come first, please. I— shit.” He dropped his head into the crook of your neck as you wrapped your legs around his hips, clenching around him.

You threw your head back, arching up to meet his latest thrust as your orgasm flew through you. Distantly, you processed a few of the sounds you were making and some of the ones you were elating from him.

Strings of hot cum covered your walls. He growled on your skin, saying your name and something you couldn’t really understand.

You let him ride off his orgasm inside you, hearing the mess he was making as the wet sounds from your slick and his cum mingled. His mouth covered yours in a tired kiss, lazy and with a hint of the tenderness he had put to the side even though his intentions had been different.

Once the two of you had caught your breaths and he had made an even bigger mess, you pulled the bedding off the mattress and threw everything into the washing machine.

He was all over you as the two of you shared a shower, so close that scrubbing off took you way longer than it should have.

In all honesty, you didn’t mind. You were too happy to complain about his annoying little antics that you couldn’t wait to get used to.

”Should we suit up?” You asked him, watching the water drip down his chest like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“They can manage without us for a night.”

“You want to skip patrol?”

Drying his arms, he copied your tone, “You don’t want to spend more time alone with me?”

“Of course I do,” you replied immediately. “But you love patrol.”

He stood still, somewhat stiff in front of you. “Not enough, it seems.”

You dropped the topic at that and went on with drying your body.

He only put his underwear back on while you slipped a pair of panties and a t-shirt, awkwardly trying to find something to change the topic.

“Do you want some ice cream? I have a tub in the freezer.”

“Sounds good.”

A nice moment you shared, silently eating ice cream. He sat close to you the entire time, brushing your side.

It felt natural, as though you were supposed to be doing that and not anything else. Patrol could wait, and his family, and your friends, and the entire world.

The world stopped so you two could enjoy the moment, the day. Or perhaps it didn’t and you just couldn’t bring yourself to give this up for it — but he couldn’t either and that meant everything to you.

Damian never skipped patrol, he hadn’t done it in the worst moments of his life and you never expected to see the day in which he would find something more worthwhile.

You found a clean sheet for the bed in the laundry room which saved you from having to squeeze yourself with Damian on the couch. Maybe it was time to get a bigger one.

He rested his head on your stomach, cheek against your belly as he looked up at you. You could tell he wanted to say something, his brow was ever so slightly furrowed, and his eyes seemed clouded by a thought. He looked pretty nonetheless.

He traced his fingers over your thigh, drawing little doodles. You could make some up by feel — a flower, a bat, his name, a few stars, his name again, an R inside a circle, a heart, his name for the third time.

“I think I would’ve broken my oath to my father if you had had someone over.”

You slid your hand off his hair to caress his cheek, too worried to hide your frown. Damian took his promises and oaths seriously, more seriously than anything else. You had seen his family use said thing against him.

“It wouldn’t have been worth it,” you tried to reason with him. “It wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“Would you have gotten mad at me?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “It would’ve depended on a lot of things. Without context, obviously, but...” Realizing you were about to make up excuses for something that hadn’t even happened, you decided to ask, “Why are you still thinking about that?”

“I don’t want you to forget about me. Ever.”

“Are you planning to say goodbye or something of sorts?”

“No!” He glared at you for even considering such a thing to be a possibility after everything the two of you had talked about, after everything you had made him feel. ”But I...” Damian scoffed. “I can’t explain to you how horrible it felt. My eyesight clouded the moment Stephanie said it was time for you to start seeing someone.”

“Jealousy does that to us.” You tried to sound wise by saying it, an attempt you found quite pointless as you replayed it in your head.

Silently, he lifted his head off your stomach in order to lay down next to you. Shifting so he would be comfortable, you held your head up with your hand to properly gaze at him.

Damian mirrored your position. He told you, in a hushed tone like it was his deepest secret, “I felt like you were replacing me.”

Stephanie only had said that because it was the truth. Your relationships always fizzled out after the first two months so you had stopped trying. Then there was the fact that Damian himself had sabotaged who knows how many of them...

From her perspective, it made sense.

“Damian...” you trailed off, in vain. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Tell me you won’t.”

“I won’t replace you as long as you don’t replace me.”

You thought he would find the comment insulting even though it was perfectly sound. But for God knows which time that day, Damian surprised you by scoffing with nonchalance.

Dismissing your worry, he slid closer to you, resting his forehead against your flexed arm. “I couldn’t possibly be happy without your perfume all over me.”

Grabbing him by the hair, you forced him to lift his head. His eyes found yours in a second, curious. You dropped your hand to his neck, sliding it up to his cheek.

Giving him the sweetest kiss you had ever given, tracing the side of his gorgeous face tenderly, you hoped you were doing a good job expressing what you wanted to communicate.

You were. He gave you in return the brightest smile you had seen in your entire existence. It was all for you, something you had caused, something you wanted to see for the rest of your life.

Damian pulled you onto his chest, laying on his back. He mindlessly ran his fingers over your side and up and down your back while you listened to his steady heartbeat.

You couldn’t possibly feel complete without him ever again.