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#dick grayson cameo
jaysgirlx · 3 months
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Airport Au!Jason gets coffee spilled on him right before he boards his flight back to Gotham and of course, he's the victim of hot coffee spilling all over his crotch. The good news is, Jason didn't suffer any burns and you were quite apologetic to him, nevertheless, he was still pissed at you and those clumsy hands of yours. To make matters worse, the two of you are seated next to each other on a 15-hour flight.
Airport Au!Jason lets you have the inside seat even though you ruined his favorite Wonder Woman t-shirt and kinda fucked up his black jeans. He even puts your suitcase away for you and he has no fucking clue why. Jason knew he didn't help strangers like this, not just be nice and flirty to girls like Dick did. But didn't do things like this for no reason especially not for pretty girls who- wait did he just call you pretty? Oh, he was so fucked.
Airport Au!Jason can't tell if he's mad at you or if he wants you. To him those feelings could be the same, he has no problem with wanting to make out with the girl who spilled coffee on his shirt. He didn't see a problem with wanting to make you his, it was an accident and you apologized a million times so maybe he should just forgive you, especially since you actually tried to clean his crotch. His self-control stopped him from letting you, but now he wishes he had let you.
Airport Au!Jason gets immediately bored after the plane takes off, he hadn't pack much because he likes to travel light. When his gaze falls in your direction, he notices that you are reading and annotating one of his favorite Sylvia Plath books and quickly starts to chat you up. You immediately light up when you find out he loves reading, especially classics and poetry. The two of you quickly got acquainted and introduced yourselves which was quickly followed by an apology. You didn't think boys who were smart and hot truly existed, you thought those were myths but Jason Todd was indeed very real.
Airport Au!Jason lets you nap on his shoulder and even orders your lunch for you so that you'd at least get some food when you woke up. You wake up to the boy thumbing through your annotations. You point out your favorite scenes and quotes and go into detail about what you thought their meanings were, well at least to you. You rambled for what might've been a good hour and fuck, Jason knew just by hearing you talk like this, he wanted to put his lips on yours so bad. Maybe shut you up for a second, not because you rambled but because your lips looked so delicious like he could devour them if he wanted. Maybe it could last more than a second, but that depended on what you'd let him do to you.
Airport Au!Jason can't help but want your attention sooo bad. He's chatting you up, making you laugh and for fucks sake why was your laugh so cute?? Why were so pretty to him? Why did you make him question every part of his being? It was like you were this missing piece he had finally found and he needed that piece. He needed you.
Airport Au!Jason jokingly warns you he's not good for you but that only makes you tilt your head with a big grin. You told him that you didn't want a "good" guy. You wanted someone morally grey, someone who understands that just because you've done bad things doesn't mean you're a bad person. You of course cleared up that you didn't support racists, homophobes, and such but you weren't past dating a criminal or even a vigilante if they matched your vibe. For a moment, Jason felt like you already accepted who he was, that you would still want to know him as the Red Hood. He hoped that maybe that was the truth.
Airport Au!Jason sneaks you into first class, pulling the "Bruce Wayne is my dad" card with the flight attendants, who swoon when Jason brings out the stolen Amex card. He'd give it back to Bruce another day or maybe just sneak it back into his wallet. The reason he gets you in so you can sleep comfortably because he knew there would be free seats (he's done this a bit too many times). You told him you didn't need to, that you liked napping on his shoulder, that he was enough but he said you deserved the luxury treat, not crappy shoulder. And it made you laugh because it was so cheesy, and Jason wished then and there, that he could hear you laugh like that for the rest of his life. Now, did he hate having to pull the "Bruce Wayne" card? Yes. Did he regret it? Hell no. Would he do it again? Yes…
Airport Au!Jason lets you play with his hair and even touch his neck scar while you lay in first class. You graze your finger across it and you feel him tense until he relaxes when your fingers lace with his. He lets you believe the white parts are dyed and tells you the scar was from a kidnapping incident that happened in his teens. You don't question him on it but instead, ask him if he still wants to know once the two of you land in Gotham. He looks at you with a cheesy grin. He says he doesn't have his phone on him but you could write your number on his arm. You knew he was joking but he was just so attractive. He enjoys the feeling of one of your hands combing his locks and the other intertwined with his.
Airport Au!Jason falls asleep with you in first class and when you two finally wake up, you decide to check how much time is left on the flight: 2 hours. A soft whine left your lips, from the thought of having to wait a a little longer to be able to kiss him. You could just tell Jason wasn't a fan of pda and if you did kiss him you'd definitely want it to be private. You told yourself to be patient and you knew you could be just a little longer, just for him. Jason on the other hand was an impatient asshole who ached for you, especially after hearing that goddamn whine. Were you trying to tease him? Because if you were it was definitely working. Jason couldn't wait 2 hours.
Airport Au!Jason brings you into the first bathroom and locks it behind him, even after receiving about of weird looks. He kisses you in with your legs almost instantly hooked around his waist and his arms holding you up against the wall. Your arms are wrapped around his neck bringing him as close as possible, while you clawed at his clothes. You weren't exactly sure where this was going but you wanted that coffee-stained shirt off him. You hooked your fingers on the ends of his shirt whining desperately to feel him. Maybe those clumsy hands of yours were good at something. And when he finally breaks the kiss, he only mutters out these words just for you, "Wanna help me get out the shirt you ruined, sweetheart?"
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letoasai · 3 months
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Will work for food ~ part 2
Part 1 - Master list
Tim was anxious which wasn’t an emotion he often put into use. Even on a bad day he was calculating, overly prepared, and usually ran on caffeine. He was a young genius and a hell of a detective, but nerves probably didn’t care about his resume or personality quirks. 
He rubbed his thumb against the folded piece of paper kept hidden in his pocket. He’d examined it in the batcave but it held no clues of note. It was just a normal sheet of paper, and the ink could have been a pen from any local corner store. No DNA. No fingerprints. All the same, he kept it out of sight in public. 
Tim had been antsy about summoning Phantom, mostly because he felt like he was disrespectfully late. When he’d first laid eyes on the living form of the Ghost King, he’d felt a familiar ache. Neglect. He didn’t know if the king had neglected himself, or if the blame lay at someone else's feet, but he just couldn’t stand it. 
He’d offered food and company in an instant, the words popping out of his mouth before he could think them through. Despite that, he didn’t regret the offer. He could have done without the teasing from his siblings and teammates, but he didn’t regret the offer once. 
His only remorse was with the clean up efforts. The Infinite creature, Vortex, had left quite the destruction in his wake. Even with many extended members of the League assisting with clean up, it took ages. Search and rescues were active and humanitarian groups had arrived to offer aid but some things couldn’t be done in a weekend. 
The bats returning to Gotham didn’t offer much in the way of a break either. A Scarecrow outbreak with his fear toxin. Three different gangs in the middle of a turf war. A weapons smuggling ring being uncovered… It was one thing after another for a minute. 
When all was said and done it had been nearly two months before Tim had the opportunity to keep his promise. He was in his civvies, standing at the mouth of an alleyway across from a little italian place that looked cheap but was actually the best tasting, most authentic italian place in all of Gotham. Little hole in the wall places often were the best. 
The problem now was his ability to overthink things. Would he summon the king in a glow of green that would light up the street like a beacon? Would he arrive in his ghostly form, crown hovering above his hooded head? 
Phantom looked human enough but was he? Did he come from Earth originally? There were plenty of aliens that looked human. It would be rude to assume… 
What name did he use? Did he need to go full title? Why didn’t he ask more questions when he had the chance?
“King Phantom.” Tim muttered, deciding to just go for it. He still clutched the paper sigil out of sight. “Uh, Ghost King Phantom. King of the Infinite Realm. Um… Or was it High King…” 
“Just Phantom is fine.” 
Tim tensed, all of his hair standing on end at the voice directly behind him in the alley. He hadn’t made a sound but he needed to actively work to exhale and turn around to face his guest. There had been zero indication of his arrival, and he was thankfully, in his living form. 
He was in jeans and an over sized hoodie. Tim could just barely make out a faded NASA written in the front. That was a point in the direction of him possibly being a human from Earth. He wore shoes this time, beat up looking kicks that had seen better days. His hood was also drawn over his head, likely to hide his bony appearance. Tim did spy the tail of his braid over his shoulder though, his hair black to further prove he was in his living form. 
“You…scared the hell out of me.” Tim said, smiling after another hard exhale. “I am sorry it took so long, your Highness.” 
“Phantom.” He corrected, looking around the street and taking it all in. Tim could clock him making note of the turns down the street and the buildings with fire escapes even with his hood up. People just had certain body language when casing an area. “I figured it would be a while, if you summoned me at all. I was not going to hold you to a whim, Red Robin.” 
“I said i would…” Tim muttered. “Uh, it’s Tim, out of uniform. If you don’t mind.” 
“Tim.” He repeated. That softness to his voice remained, and honestly, Tim liked the cadence of it. He liked it as much as he was sure he never wanted to hear Phantom raise his voice. “I understand.” He hesitated only a beat. “You can call me Danny. Phantom is probably a silly thing to call someone in a city like this.” 
“Not if it’s your name.” 
“Danny is okay.” He said, and for whatever reason, Tim noticed now how he kept his hands in his pockets, likely to hide them too. Frail, skeletal looking hands would just frighten some people. “Food? For a favor?” 
“No favor involved. I invited you out.” Tim said. “I mean, maybe we can chat about stuff but you aren’t obligated to answer or anything.” 
Phantom…Danny nodded, shuffling for a moment and looking around again. The height of the buildings seemed to be a mild interest of his. “Where are we eating?” 
“Well, if you like Italian, we’re walking across the street.” He thought pasta and breads would be both filling and flavorful. It would also be something easily packed up for Danny to take with him. 
“I’ll eat anything.” Danny informed him. “I have no preferences after all this time.” He hesitated. “Or maybe i need to rediscover them, but anything will be fine.” 
“Let’s… let’s go then.” Tim said, walking with Danny at his side. He’d made a reservation which wasn’t strictly necessary at such a small place but it gave him the option of reserving a corner table to offer them a little more privacy. 
They walked in, the hostess greeting them with a smile before leading them to their table and leaving them with bread, water, and menus. There were a few other full tables but it wasn’t packed the way it would be in the evening. 
Danny kept his hood up, but it was Gotham and no one questioned the decision. They just left him in peace to not start a conflict with someone who wasn’t causing any trouble. He also kept his hands out of sight until the hostess had left. He sipped the water once and broke off only a little piece of the bread. He buttered it and ate on it while flipping open the menu. 
Tim didn’t know if he was reading the English or Italian parts of the menu but it didn’t matter. Being fluent in reading an Earth language was another check mark for this being his place of origin. 
“Can i…” Tim hummed, keeping in mind that he was speaking with royalty and act a little less like Bruce interrogating a suspect. “Can i ask a couple questions?” 
Danny looked up at him, Tim only barely able to make out some of his features passed the unnatural shadows his hood provided. “Sure.” 
Tim smiled, not even bothering with the menu since he knew what he was getting. “You’re the King of a realm, but was Earth your place of origin?” 
“Yes, but not this Earth.” 
Dimensions! Tim filed that away for later. “You can travel to any of them?” 
“Within reason. Yes. I’m old, but not that old yet. Only eight or nine decades.” He tore another small piece of bread to eat. Tim assumed he was pacing himself. “They call me a baby Ancient still.” 
“That’s cool…” Tim muttered. “Are there many other Earths?” 
“The answer to that would never satisfy you.” Danny said softly. “Trust me. I am the Ancient of Space and i’m hardly satisfied with it.” 
There was a new fact for Tim to latch on. “What’s the-” He stopped when the waitress appeared. Both of them ordered, and Tim was certain he’d end up ordering more halfway through the meal so Danny could take more home with him.  
When the menus were taken and the waitress left again, Tim continued. “What’s the difference between being an Ancient of Space and being the Ghost King.” 
“When i died, or half died, it was my fate to one day become the Ancient of Space. I am that regardless. I won the title of Ghost King.” 
Tim dragged a hand down his face. “That’s…. Endlessly fascinating. I have so many questions.” He didn’t even know how to touch ‘half died’ yet. 
Danny hummed once and fiddled with the end of his braid. “Do i get to ask questions too?” 
“Of course.” 
Danny leaned forward, sipping at his water again. “This Earth has super heroes. That’s interesting. Mine didn’t. How long have you been a hero?” 
Tim nodded, figuring that would be the direction the questions would have wandered towards. They were far enough away from everyone in the restaurant that he didn’t worry about being heard. The music playing in the background also helped a great deal. 
“Hero might be a debate depending on who you ask. In Gotham we’re considered vigilanties. I first suited up at thirteen but it was really more like fourteen after a great deal of training.” 
Danny was quiet for a moment. “And how old are you now? I have trouble telling ages these days…” 
“Eighteen.” Tim said. 
“Young.” Danny muttered. “I was young too. Fourteen when i became the bridge. Sixteen before i really understood what it meant.” 
“The bridge?” 
“Balance. The living and the dead.” 
Tim huffed softly. “You wear a lot of hats, don’t you?”  
Danny made a quiet noise, and it took Tim a beat longer than normal to realize he was laughing. “I do, i wish i didn’t most of the time. It’s fine though.” 
“Just fine?” Tim asked after a beat. He knew a little about expectations and high standards that could weigh you down–both his own standards and other peoples. 
Danny nodded, one of his hands resting on the other. “I’ve seen things. Good things. Bad things. Things that will never happen. Things that have. It’s better i have certain powers because i have no desire to use them.” 
Aah. Tim understood that. “People who want too much power are dangerous.” 
“Exactly.” 
“The power of ruling an entire realm…” 
“Exactly.” 
Tim heaved a sigh. “Damn.” Maybe he should ask something less intense. “Did you enjoy the food we gave you last time? It was just some fast food but there was some worry it wasn’t good enough.” 
“It was great.” Danny said and he sounded sincere. “Nostalgic. It took me a few days to eat all of it. I know the Infinite Realm’s reputation, and it is a warranted reputation, but i’m… hard to offend. Little things are just little things.” 
“I’ll put them at ease then.” 
Danny was quiet for a moment, the silence not an oppressive one. “What is the difference between a hero and a vigilante?” 
“How people perceive us, i guess. Superman will always be seen as a hero. Wholesome and valiant and all that. Things in Gotham are altogether… shadier. Being a vigilante isn’t exactly legal and while we have our boundaries, we break the law all the time.” Tim said. They covered their own tracks well but it was fortunate that no one looked too closely at their activities. 
It didn’t bother Tim when he knew his reasons were still good. 
Danny made a thoughtful kind of noise. “I’m willing to bet Superman’s business isn’t purely legal either. This seems like a nice Earth though, despite whatever troubles you have.” 
“Some hero work is sanctioned by the government so it’s a fine line. Any of it could be argued.” Tim explained, and that was something Danny seemed to find fascinating. 
They paused their conversation again when the waitress appeared with their food, and Tim put in a second order for them to take when they left. The eyes Tim could feel on him told him that Danny already knew what they were for. 
He could hear Danny softly inhale and exhale as he looked at the plate in front of him that came accompanied with salad. He likely wouldn’t be able to eat even a fraction of it but the way he looked at it…. made Tim realize that he could see Danny’s face more clearly. The shadows that obscured his face from his hood had receded. He was still gaunt, but he eyed the food with so much joy. 
The first bite of –non fast food– food nearly seemed to overwhelm him in a good way. 
“You know,” Tim swung hard to change subjects. “We can do a bit of a food tour every time i summon you for lunch. Pizza. Chinese. Barbeque. There’s a great taco truck. We could get something homemade.” 
“You cook?” 
“Haa. No.” Tim said seriously. “But Al… my grandpa is an amazing cook and he seemed to think trading food for world saving services was very sensible but he was appalled that we offered you cheap fries and burgers. He’d honestly love to cook for you.” 
Danny smiled, this shy little look that shouldn’t have fit someone with the title of Ghost King but it sure fit Danny. “That could be nice. Decent home cooked meals are kind of mythological to me.” 
Tim nodded once, and knew better than to ask directly. “I didn’t have a very cuddly upbringing either. There was a lot of take-out involved.” 
“Your food ever come back to life and try to eat you instead?” Danny asked and Tim just stared. 
“I can’t…tell if that’s a real question or if you’re messing with me.” 
Danny smiled and was that a hint of fangs? “Dead serious.” 
Time groaned. “No, no you are a king. You are not making puns.” 
“Thinking i’m too mature for puns is a grave mistake.” Danny said without hesitation. 
“Noo.” Tim groaned, lips upturned into a smile. His brothers could never know about this. Dick would start a pun off and Jason’s morbid sense of humor about his own death…. Ugh, it would be bad. 
It did bring up the interesting question of Danny’s age. He said he’d been alive for decades but how did he mature. Was he still a teenager? Did he age slowly? Asking not only sounded like a bad idea, but Raven and Zatanna had both made sure he knew it was a question to not ask. 
They chatted, they ate, or well, Tim ate. Danny ate a bite every few minutes and looked thrilled about it but he was slowing down. Tim was looking forward to Danny being able to eat more with every visit. 
He flagged down the waitress, gesturing for a box and got a thumbs up in return. 
“You can take it with you.” Tim said when Danny was giving him a look. “It might be a couple days before i can call you again and this way you’ll have enough to eat every day.” 
“I can’t deny that.” Danny said. “You don’t have to keep summoning me.”
“I promised you lunches.” Tim said firmly. “And you said it yourself, you should eat more and spend more time in a living realm. You may as well take advantage of being summoned for food.” 
“Hm…” Danny played with the end of his braid again. “You do make a compelling argument. It’s nice to talk to someone without it being preceded by a brawl.” 
Tim stared, “What?” 
Danny just looked amused. “I’ll explain to you etiquette in the Infinite Realm sometime.” 
“Yeah?” 
The waitress returned with boxes for Danny to pack up his meal and the empty dishes were whisked away to make more room on the table while they waited for their to-go orders. 
They were almost startled when a second waitress reappeared with a few little dishes before they could begin speaking again. Everything was set in the middle of the table, presumably for them to share. There was a piece of white peach tart, a bowl of strawberry gelato, and a slice of frozen chocolate chip meringata. 
“Um…” Tim blinked. “We didn’t-”
The waitress chuckled. “It was ordered for you by another patron. Please enjoy.” She set down another set of utensils for them and walked away. 
Danny made a small sound in his throat. “Well i was full but how could i say no to a couple more bites…” 
“Wait.” Tim said, gaze subtly shifting around the room. Maybe he was trained to be paranoid, but it usually served him well. What he found almost instantly had his eye twitching. 
Not even halfway across the room sat a poorly disgusted Dick wearing large sunglasses, a fedora, and the world's least convincing mustache. When he saw Tim looking and grinned and raised his own wine glass. 
“I gotta kill my brother…” 
Danny sputtered out a laugh, so genuinely amused that Tim could definitely see his fangs as he laughed.
“That would make him my problem.” Danny pointed out, reaching for a spoon to try the gelato first. 
“I’m not seeing your point.” Tim said, delighted by Danny’s teasing. It was a rookie mistake to think one of his siblings wouldn’t find out about this. An absolute blunder that he hadn’t noticed Dick walking in after them at all. He’d never live it down. 
“Guess i’ll have to be more careful next time.” He added. 
Danny hummed again and seemed to have a fondness for the cold dessert. “I could always invite you to my realm sometime.” 
“Cool.” Tim said instantly. Ha, let them try to follow him then…
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nerdpoe · 7 months
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The Disappearance of Timothy Drake-Wayne, and how Watcher Mystery Files solved it in one episode.
Wrote it for a warm up, freaked out because I didn't know how to end it, copped out, wrote Omegaverse instead, finished another story, circled back to this one.
Anyways this was inspired by this post right here from @thebeeswantarson
it looks like this go reblog it
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Alright here we go.
When the nosebleeds had started, Tim hadn’t really thought anything of it.
He’d waved away concerned friends and family, shoved tissues (and tampons, on one memorable occasion) up his nose, and gone about his day.
Then the migraines. Oh, the migraines.
After the increased migraines, increased stomach issues, and a few fainting spells that had even Bruce cornering him and demanding he see a doctor, Tim had acquiesced.
And the result after many CATscans and MRIs?
Nothing. No tumors, no signs of disease, normal bloodwork-nothing physical was wrong.
Nothing magical, either. He’d gone to some JLD members to ensure that.
After consulting with his small team of doctors, they finally managed to pinpoint what was driving his body to rebel against itself.
Stress.
Fucking stress.
Like some sort of swooning Victorian maiden, but with all the swooning and none of the cocaine.
So.
Tim had written email to his friends and family, sent them off, and proceeded to completely detach from the world around him in his most well-kept secret bunker.
Tim knew himself, and if he maintained contact with anyone then he’d inevitably go back to working on cases and undoing the de-stressing he was attempting.
He hadn’t been sure if it would work, or if the stress of not being able to connect to the others or work on cases would make things worse, but it had. Unorthodox, yes, but it worked! He’d relaxed and caught up on sleep!
But fully rested, and also more than a little bored, he knew it was time to get back into the swing of things.
Mournfully, Tim bid his state-of-the-art bunker goodbye and started going through the multiple airlocks to get outside.
The absolute second he stepped out, though, the air rippled and Kon was immediately there.
Kon looked…disheveled.
His hair was a wreck, he only had one sleeve of his jacket on, and…were those tear tracks?
Why was Kon crying?
Fuck, had the zombie apocalypse started while he’d been away?
Tim held out his hands in a calming motion, not breaking eye contact.
“It’ll be okay Kon; we can figure out what the cure is for the Zombie Plague.” Tim didn’t actually know if he could figure it out, but he didn’t want Kon to freak out anymore than he already was.
Tim’s hands were pushed aside in favor of being swept into an all-consuming hug, and-yup. Kon absolutely was crying into his shoulder.
Tim was officially concerned.
“Is Bart okay? Is Cassie okay? Kon, who’s hurt, what happened-“
“You, Rob. You’re okay. Shut up, I’m having a moment.”
Tim was even more confused, but that was alright; his brain started working without him.
Kon was crying, and emphasizing that Tim was okay. Kon had not realized that Tim was fine, ergo Kon had not received the email Tim had sent out.
Then Tim’s brain went Tim Big Brain.
Normally, a misconception like that would have been cleared up right away by someone else with correct information. But it hadn’t been cleared up at all, and Kon was never quiet about trying to save someone.
Thus, no one had known any different to what Kon had believed. No one had known to correct the misconception that he had found himself immersed in.
Therefore, the emails had not been sent out.
The…emails had not been sent out.
Oh fuck him the emails had not been sent out and he went on his merry way to an unlisted bunker with soundproofing for six fucking months.
“You were supposed to receive an email,” Tim muttered, horrified, as his arms wrapped around Kon as well.
Kon snorted wetly.
“Well I didn’t, and neither did anyone else.”
“Yeah, I kinda get that now. I’m in…so much trouble.”
Kon nodded into Tim’s shoulder, smearing snot and tears into his shirt. Tim didn’t even complain.
He was too busy realizing just how badly he was in for it.
~~~~~~
Bruce could feel the conversation he was trying to have begin to turn into another fight.
Dick was insisting that Ra’s Al Ghul had to be the one who had taken Tim, and had roped Damian in on it.
The problem was that there was no real concrete evidence that Ra’s had taken Tim, and Bruce refused to let them move in without intel on, at the very minimum, where Tim could have been taken.
Dick, naturally, was not happy with that answer.
Bruce, of course, refused to lose any more of his children. Especially if it was something he could have easily prevented.
“Father, if Grandfather has Drake it is only a matter of time before irreparable damage is done. We must move quickly.”
Bruce shook his head, standing more firmly in front of his oldest and youngest.
Dick looked ready to explode.
“Get out of the way, Bruce. I’m getting Tim.” Dick’s stance was tense, and his words moreso.
Bruce had no doubt this would devolve into a physical confrontation if he did not ed-escalate.
He opened his mouth to do just that when, with a shrill beeping sound, Oracle chimed in.
“Uh, guys? I think I just found Tim.”
Bruce felt something inside of himself relax, and didn’t bother to stop Dick and Damian as they charged past him to crowd the Batcomputer.
“Oracle, report; where is he?” Was he safe? Did he need help?
“About that…”
“Babs please!” Dick begged, knuckles white from where he gripped the console.
“He’s currently outrunning the paparazzi and a literal mob of Gothamites with phones.”
Bruce…had no idea how to respond to that.
Neither did Dick, apparently.
“They’re all livestreaming, so like; tracking him isn’t an issue,” Oracle supplied, like that made things make more sense.
The screen blinked, and four separate video feeds from random Gothamites showed Tim running from them at different angles.
“…Agent A, I believe it’d be best for you to pick him up.”
All eyes were on Tim; it would be weird if Batman swooped down to retrieve him.
~~~~~~
When Tim had Kon drop him off, he had been expecting maybe a second look or two when he stepped out of that alley.
What Kon may have neglected to mention, however, was that the disappearance of Timothy Drake-Wayne was all anyone had been talking about for four months. There were a lot of theories, but the most prevalent happened to be the most gruesome.
Popular theory one; Bruce Wayne murdered Timothy Drake-Wayne in cold blood after Timothy made a decision with Wayne Enterprises that infuriated the man.
Popular theory two; Timothy Drake-Wayne was being held for ransom, and Bruce Wayne was refusing to pay it. Effectively, it was the same as theory one but with more steps.
Popular theory three; Timothy Drake-Wayne had been captured by Gotham’s underbelly and sold into human trafficking.
And the fourth most popular theory; Timothy Drake-Wayne was abducted by aliens.
So when Tim stepped out of that alley, it wasn’t to an occasional second glance.
It was to excited whispers and impromptu livestreaming.
Naturally, Tim bolted.
He’d outrun one mob, only to run into another one. His face was all over the internet, he knew, and there was no way Barbara hadn’t caught on.
He hadn’t been paying attention to where he was going, really, and made the worst mistake he could have made at that particular point in time.
He ran in front of Wayne Enterprises.
There were two guys, presumably talking about his disappearance. One was average height, the other was tall, and both were clearly not from Gotham.
He heard tiny snatches of their conversation as he got closer, pinned the California accents, and shoved past them with a half shouted apology.
“Well would’ja lookit that, Ryan; looks like it just solved itself!”
“How?!”
Tim let them fall into the background and used his new bearings to beeline for Crime Alley.
After all, only idiots would follow someone into Crime Alley.
Unfortunately, after twenty minutes Tim was forced to admit that the general populace of Gotham probably wasn’t on the scale of normal he had been depending on.
They had indeed followed him all the way into Crime Alley.
So he tried to lose them even harder.
He shoved between muggers and their victims, blew through obvious drug deals, and jumped over the tables hosting poker games so intense that the players were fingering their weapons.
Still, the crowd followed him.
Tim took three quick turns, prepared to take a fourth, and was snatched out of the street and into an old building.
The hold was meant for restraint, and Tim couldn’t break out of it without making a lot of noise, which he really didn’t want to do.
Plus, he recognized the arms latched around him and keeping him in place.
“Thanks Hood,” Tim whisper-panted.
The arms got tighter.
“Kid, do you have any idea how many ops I blew searching for you?”
Oh.
Oh no.
“Was absolutely convinced trafficker filth had gotten their hands on my kid brother,” Hood continued quietly, the mechanical rasp making his words deceptively collected, “So I went ahead and destroyed some of my only leads on the off chance that I’d find him.”
Tim felt himself start to break out in a cold sweat.
“So…you need help picking up your old trails?”
“’Help’ feels wrong. I’m owed it, Timmers.”
~~~~~~
‘Timothy Drake-Wayne Returns from the Dead!’
Tim thought that the newspapers were, quite possibly exaggerating just a little.
Just like his family was overreacting.
He was to wear at least four trackers at all times, he had to check in four times a day, he had to help Red Hood with picking back up the case load he’d all but set on fire in search of Tim, and he had to take Damian wherever their youngest wanted to go.
Apparently, the Little Demon had been so concerned that Ra’s Al Ghul had Tim that he’d started having nightmares.
And Tim wasn’t gonna lie, he felt beyond shitty for that. Well, that and everything else.
He’d also been forced to tell Bruce the location of every single one of his bunkers.
He’d sulk but…Tim also kind of felt like the worlds biggest asshole.
So.
He’d just…remember to actually hit send, not save, next time.
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cyanbeetle · 6 months
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Does anyone know these guys
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heroesriseandfall · 7 months
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As someone who works with 2-3 year olds this is absolutely the look of parents who know if they put their kid down for 2 seconds (excepting when he’s around that nice acrobat Dick Grayson!) he will run off to see the clowns and be lost forever
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Secret Origins Vol. 2 #50
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Batman #436 — Batman: Year Three
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Batman #441 — A Lonely Place of Dying: Chapter Three
Highlighting the clown part though, literally in two of these panels he is SO delighted and intrigued by a clown. And what disguise was Dick in when Tim found him at the Circus in their second ever meeting?
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The New Titans #60 — A Lonely Place of Dying: Chapter Two
…so he DID run off to see a clown the second they weren’t looking. well, that’s what happens when you leave a kid at boarding school 😔 can’t take your eyes off him for even a second.
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oven-thermometer · 3 months
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Don’t Ask.
Summary: Damian needs a place to spend the night, somewhere he won’t be riddled with questions – somewhere he’d feel safe. Jason’s place just seems to materialise. 
(NOT A SHIP)
a/n: my bff and I made a sims world for dc and cod characters. that’s how this started. enjoy. This is a hurt/comfort if you were wondering. 
Warnings: mentions of abuse, violence, past trauma, swearing, the author has never written for dc before, spelling mistakes problably.
w/c: 4.7k
It was raining when Jason pushed the doors open. He had been sitting in that stuffy room in a sharing circle for what felt like hours. He hadn’t spoken much in today’s session, not that he minded. He preferred the days were he could sit back and silently make his own judgements about the other people sitting in shitty plastic chairs, pouring their hearts out for six strangers and one mildly qualified doctor.
A soft hand touched his arm as he stared listlessly at the wet parking lot. Turning his head, he found the comforting smile of Meemaw Vicky staring at him. The elderly woman had insisted he call her Vicky, it made her feel young apparently – he added the ‘Meemaw’ part himself to tease her.
“You didn’t talk in there today.” She remarked, letting her hand fall from his arm in preference of standing next to him.
“Didn’t feel like any of the topics applied to me much.” He lied.
She just hummed in reply, letting him stew in the fact that she knew exactly what he actually wanted to say. ‘Today just felt like one of those days where if I talk too much I’ll drop dead.’ 
She knew because she had those days too, he knew that as well. She was in the same therapy group as him, and he’d heard some of her stories. Her husband being murdered in front of her from a home invasion wasn’t what he was expecting to come out of what seemed to be the kindest old lady, although he didn’t think anyone was prepared to hear his truth either. He left out the raised by batman and dying part, but being kidnapped by the Joker was all too well known by some of the people in this godforsaken community center. 
Breaking out of his trance, Jason inhaled sharply, “You still coming over tomorrow?”
“Yes, and I’ll be bringing a surprise, I think you’ll like it.” She didn’t look at him as she spoke, just kept watching the soft rain pattering onto the ground. 
“I’m sure I will, Meemaw.”
Jason helped her to the bus stop, leaving with a kiss on his cheek and a dish of leftover mac and cheese he wasn’t sure where she was keeping. 
Something was wrong. When he had arrived home, the rain still making itself known, something had been off. None of his lights were on, so he couldn’t see in – but the welcome mat Barbra had gotten him was scuffed with mud he knew he hadn’t tracked in last night after his patrol. Checking the front door confirmed it was still locked. 
Opening the door slowly, he surveyed the room. His bottom floor was completely open plan, save for a cupboard acting as a divider between the kitchen and the living room. Nothing was amiss from what he could see, except for his missing dog. She always woke up before he actually got in, waiting to greet him at the door. But she was missing and he couldn’t even hear her soft snores. 
Then he heard it. A soft mumble. Something he couldn’t make out. But he had heard it. It had come from his living room area. When he made his way over, he couldn’t do anything except let out a deep, annoyed sigh. 
“I thought dogs were meant to deter unwanted guests.”
Damian Al-Ghul Wayne sat on Jason’s beaten up couch with a neutral expression as he ran his hand behind Dog’s ear. She looked up at Jason, her tongue flopping out. Damian seemed to either be in a deep comatose state, or he was completely ignoring Jason’s presence. 
“What? No snarky comment or backhanded compliment?” Jason asked as he moved to turn the lights on. When he turned back to the teenager, the bruises littering his neck catches his attention immediately. From what he could see they continued all the way round and disappeared under his shirt too. He would’ve been alarmed if it weren’t for the fact that Damian was a crime-fighting vigilante, had a kill count in the triple digits and oh yeah, was the son of Batman. So Jason just shook his head and walked to the kitchen. 
“So you gonna tell me why you’re here?” Jason called out, busying himself with shoving some of the mac and cheese in the microwave.
Dog had finally let up on her pure betrayal. She trotted over to Jason, purely unaware as she scratched at her food bowl. 
With no response coming from the couch’s occupant, Jason just rolled his eyes and bent down to pet Dog and fill her food bowl. Her slightly crossed eyes closed as she licked at his face before she started on her dinner. She was a certified therapy dog, another gift from that group therapy. She worked, though. She gave him something to get out of bed for. Whatever happened, he knew he had to get home and feed Dog. And she calmed him down during the occasional panic attack, so he didn’t mind the downside of walks and feeding too much. 
Later, after Jason and Damian had sat at the kitchen island in silence and each had eaten their own dinner, Damian got up without a word and began washing the few dishes left in the sink. Jason knew not to argue with him when he started doing something. He settled for watching him as he washed and rinsed, offering the occasional help when he noticed the boy would stop for a few seconds as he didn’t know where something was. At this point Jason was getting slightly concerned. Damian was never this quiet. He would show up without explanation sometimes, but he’d always offer some insult or sassy statement throughout the visit. This wasn’t normal. 
Checking his phone, no out of the ordinary messages peaked his interest, no one asking where Damian was or who had him. Then, the time caught his eye. If Damian went to sleep any later, he’d be a disaster to deal with in the morning and there weren’t enough therapy dogs in the world for that patience test. 
“C’mon, you can sleep in my bed. I’ll take the couch.” 
Just before Jason left his bedroom to let Damian get some sleep, he stopped. Damian was standing next to his bed, awkwardly wringing his hands together and shifting his weight from one leg to the other. 
His voice was small when he spoke, and it sounded too broken for it’s own good, “I presume Alfred has been told of my whereabouts.”
“Nope.” His reply was quick and matter-of-fact. 
“He would want to know where I am – and so would… so would father.” The last part was softer, almost like he didn’t want to say it in the first place. 
“Between you and me, I can tell when someone doesn’t wanna be found just yet.” 
The door made a soft click as Jason closed it behind him. Dog was all too happy when she got to smother him completely as he lay down on the couch.
The next morning, as the last part of yesterday’s rain still prattled on stubbornly against his windows, Jason stood in the kitchen with his favourite mug. His neighbour had gotten it for him, a house-warming gift. He hated the stupid camo decals but it was the first genuine gift he had gotten in years. So he kept it. Not hearing the sound of careful footsteps coming down the stairs, Jason blinked his thoughts away when Damian’s unkempt set of dark curls entered his peripheral vision. 
“Rough night?” Jason joked.
“What? I stayed in the room if that’s what-“
“It’s an expression dumbass, your hair looks like it’s going in five different directions.”
“…Oh.” That small glimpse of innocence and the look of a tiny epiphany in Damian made Jason smile, but it was wiped away quickly when Damian started listing off his breakfast needs like he was at a restaurant.
“-and with that you’ll pour the cream over. Oh and don’t forget the eggs. Not too crispy and not too soft.”
“You order Alfred around like that in the mornings?” Jason turned to his cabinets, pulling out a box of cereal that was probably two months too old. 
“I usually accept my breakfast in bed, and he already knows how I like everything.” He sat on one of the high-chairs, looking impossibly childish as his legs hung off too far from the ground.
“Oh, sorry your highness, but you’ll have to deal with cereal today.” They did this dance everytime he came over to visit.
As Damian ate, Jason started with washing the mug and spoon in his sink. This felt better. The younger boy was finally offering up full sentences one after the other and wouldn’t immediately look away when he tried to meet his eyes – even though he could tell he was still struggling.
But those bruises caught his eye again. Bile started to rise in his throat.
“Your neck-“
“I don’t want to talk about it.” He stopped eating for a moment before returning with more fervor. 
“So they aren’t ones from fighting?”
“Would that make them better? Acceptable?” Damian looked straight at his brother, piercing through him with his accusing stare. A challenge. 
“No, but I just wanna know if you’re safe, idiot.”
His gaze fell. He pushed his almost finished bowl of probably unsafe cereal away and stood.
“I want to leave now. The walk to my school from your house is longer than from the manor.”
After a long moment of Jason scrutinizing his every move, he sighed. “You can leave, but you’re not going to school today.”
His mouth snarled and his brow raised as he registered his words, “Excuse me?”
“If you think my questions about those marks are too personal, you’ll hate what the teachers are gonna ask.” He shrugged. 
He pondered for a moment before replying, “Maybe missing school is for the best, just today though.”
Jason put the mug and spoon onto the drying rack, wiping his hands on a dishcloth while he made his way to the front door. 
“Where are you going?”
“Oh, I thought you wanted to leave? Might as well take dog with us, she needs a walk anyways.” He held out a leash, offering it to Damian as Dog made her presence known with excited barks.
The skeptical look on Damian’s face as he walked over could have been framed. He questioned the idea of ‘us’ out-loud as he clipped the leash onto Dog’s collar.
Jason didn’t bother replying, opting to walk out the door, expecting the others to follow. The morning was still exceptionally dreary. The rain was even more misty than yesterday, but still annoying enough to warrant Jason bringing his umbrella from inside. 
The trio walked down the street without a word, with Dog being none the wiser as she sniffed at every passer-by. Jason waved to his neighbour as they passed his house, although the man just gave a blank expression and a nod in reply.
“What is wrong with him?” Damian asked as the blonde man quickly disappeared back into his house. 
“I know him from therapy, he’s ex-military or some shit. Got traumatized enough to be discharged early I guess.” He decided to leave out the part where his husband died in his arms from a gunshot to the head.
After a short while, both of them had fallen silent. Neither felt the need to fill the space between them with pointless chit-chat. That was until Damian piped up, “Your… therapy, does it actually work?”
“Most the time. Thinking of finally talking to someone?” Jason taunted him with a raised brow and smirk, wanting to get him back for this morning. 
“Definitely not. I can’t imagine anything worse than some stranger who only cares about their paycheck asking me about my life.”
“You know, it’s not always like that. Some therapists actually care. Sure, a lot of them only want the session over with so they can diagnose you and ask for the bill,” Jason sat on a park bench, expecting for the other to follow his lead, “but there are therapists that genuinely want to help people. And, you don’t have to be alone when you do it, by the way.”
Instead of replying immediately, Damian bent down to unclip Dog’s leash. She set off instantly in search of a nearby flock of pigeons with her tail pointed high and her nose to the ground. Damian chose to stay standing, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. It made Jason smile to himself.
“I don’t think the being alone is the issue to me.” He said it quietly, his gaze darting from one person to the next as they went about their business in the park. Even though most Gothamites were used to the near-constant downpour many still chose to stay indoors when the weather got like this. Autumn was Damian’s favourite season just for this – he could go just about anywhere and not be bothered by huge crowds or people willing to linger too long.  
“It helps, when you’re in a group. It hurts like hell and it gets embarrassing when you start crying in front of like, eight civilians and a doctor who just smiles the whole time-“
“That sounds awful.”
“But,” he says forcefully, immediately regretting it when Damian recoiled ever so slightly, “forcing yourself to be vulnerable around strangers actually gets you used to being human again. And when you realize those strangers are actually going through the same thing as you, they become way less scary.”
Gently, Jason placed a hand on Damian’s shoulder. Damian stiffened a little, but his expression remained blank as he kept staring off into the distance. 
The words sat on his tongue like acid, burning his throat from the inside out. He wanted to shake the boy and scream at him that it didn’t have to be like this. That he didn’t have to pretend to hide where those bruises came from. That he didn’t have to miss school like this. That he didn’t have to come running to his older brother’s house anymore. He wanted to scream the softest words he knew he’d never heard before. But he settled for letting his hand fall from his shoulder and placing it next to Damian’s clenched fist. Not an invitation, or a threat, just a reminder. 
They stayed like that for a while, sitting in silence. When they finally arrived back home, Jason noted that Damian seemed less dejected, but as if he was now just floating above his body. 
Jason took his place in the rocking chair Meemaw Vicky got him for knitting in. The whole thing had been her idea, she said knitting helps keep your hands and your mind off of other things – and god knew he needed that. The old, stolen, clock that sat on Jason’s, also stolen, shelf reminded him of something he had very much conveniently forgotten. 
Meemaw Vicky would be arriving in exactly ten minutes, maybe longer if she was late – Jason knew she wouldn’t be. His gaze turned to Damian who was sitting quietly on his couch, reading through one of the random books Jason kept on his shelves, next to that clock. Dog slept at his feet, her muffled snores indicating her tiredness after their walk. Damian’s glazed over eyes flew across the words, leaning back into the plush cushions as he flipped the pages. His nose crinkled every few sentences, trying to decipher whatever hidden message the author was trying to make him read between the lines for. He had two options, shove Damian out the house before Meemaw Vicky can get her hands on his chubby cheeks and then end up with a knife in her ribs, or lock him upstairs till she leaves. He decided on neither. 
“I have someone coming over soon.”
“Pennyworth?” he didn’t even look up as he answered him.
“For the last time, he probably knows where you are already and no I have not called him. A friend of mine is visiting.”
“You have friends?” that got an amused look from Damian. Friendly eye contact, progress.
That comment snapped his invisible patience though.
“Speak for yourself,” stop, “you’ve been at that school for what? Eight months?” what are you doing, “How many friends have you managed to make?” why am I saying this, “And how many of those kids actually know you past the fact that you’re a billionaires kid who can’t talk about his feelings?” God please just shut up.
Jason bit the inside of his cheek before he could continue fucking up. He tasted copper while he saw the emotions flit through Damian’s eyes. They were too short to recognize but he felt each one like a gut punch all the same. Damian just blinked and looked back down to his book, obviously not actually reading it. Progress erased. 
“I’m sorry, I-“
“Don’t. It’s fine.”
That feeling came back, the urge to grip him so tight and engrain what he was feeling into his bones. The feelings he couldn’t hope to find the words for. The apologies, the forgiveness, the reassurance, the anger. 
The ringing of the doorbell announcing Meemaw Vicky's arrival interrupted Jason thoughts.
Damian didn’t even pretend to be interested in getting up. He just kept looking at the book.
Dog got up and happily trotted over to greet her through the door. Jason sighed as he walked over to open the door, giving her cheeks a kiss each as to say hello.
“Oh Jason, I finally managed to grow those orchids we talked about! They were tough but they bloomed just this morning! I brought a few cuttings for you to keep around the house.” Her smile                     seemed to cleanse the soul, letting you know just how good her intentions always where. Not a bad bone resided in this woman’s body – maybe that’s why Jason loved having her over. He felt as if the goodness overflowing from her every word would stain him and his house so that nothing of his past would remain. And he also just enjoyed the company every once in a while.
Jason failed to notice just how quickly the elderly woman could still move. She had already gotten all the way to his living room while he was thinking, leaving the plastic bags surely filled with flower cuttings on his kitchen counter. He had to move.
But when he walked the distance and talked himself out of revisiting the locking Damian upstairs idea, all he found was Meemaw Vicky leaning dangerously close over Damian’s shoulder, asking him a list of questions about himself. 
She stood up and looked to Jason, shoving an accusatory finger in his space. “You never told me you had a little brother! I expected better from you, Jason Todd.”
Damian scoffed at that. Jason just rolled his eyes and mumbled an apology.
Meemaw Vicky sat a respectable distance on the couch from the boy, giving him ample space. She had calmed down considerably, but still asked Damian questions he answered through gritted teeth. 
“How old are you?”
“13.”
“Oh, same age as my granddaughter! You’d love her. I think I should bring her over one day to meet you.”
“Please don’t.”
“So what are you learning about in school? Ooh, what book have you got there? I need to catch up on my reading.”
“I- I am on a normal curriculum and I’m reading, uh, Pride and Prejudice.”
“I see,” she sat back for a moment, studying him, “you know that’s your brother’s favourite book.”
“…Really?”
Meanwhile, content that he wasn’t going to stab her, Jason had left the two alone to make some tea. While waiting for the kettle to boil, he decided to actually check his phone for the first time since last night. The usual app notifications were quickly deleted, with a few kept – if he doesn’t keep the instagram notifications he will never remember to watch all the reels Dick sends him, and then he’ll never hear the end of it. His finger stopped in it’s motion across the phone when it lit up with a call screen. The caller ID seemed to seep into Jason’s psyche and grip his lungs. 
‘Bruce Wayne’ in plain, black text in front of the white background laughed at him. It was taunting him. 
He declined the call. And the next one. And the next three. 
He only picked up the last call because this time it came from Alfred, and he was too scared to decline a call from that man.
“What’s up?”
“Master Jason, I assume Master Damian is with you?”
“Why?”
“He didn’t come home from school yesterday. He’d only ever stay the night at your or Master Dick’s house.”
“And how do you not know he’s not at Dick’s place?”
“Because he at least answers Bruce’s phone calls the first time. Master Dick has not seen Master Damian.”
Damn that man and his phone addiction, and his undying loyalty to their adoptive father.
“Listen, he’s here but I can tell he doesn’t wanna go home. Not yet.”
“That is not what I’m concerned with, what I don’t like is him getting to skip school. You know how important an education is to give that boy some semblance of a normal life.” Although Alfred’s words were curt and pinched, Jason felt the genuine care that lay beneath them. Alfred loved Damian just as much as any of them. 
“I… I know. But Alfred, did you see his neck? People would ask questions. And you know he hates that.” He spoke in a hushed voice, careful to not let Damian hear.
The silence that came from the other end of the call was filled with the kettles high-pitched whine. Quickly turning the stove off, Jason wracked his brain for what to say to Alfred about any of this. 
But, it was Alfred that spoke as Jason poured the cups of tea while holding the phone to his ear.
“I was not made aware of any injuries. How bad are they?”
“God, Alfred I- shit,” he winced as he spilled some boiling water on his hand, “I don’t know. He won’t even let me see but there are nasty bruises all over his neck. And I can tell they go further. He must’ve had a pretty bad fight, did something happen?”
“Master Damian has not been on patrol for a few days though, he has been on a strict sleeping schedule due to an upcoming school project.”
“… what?” Suddenly, those calls from Bruce started making sense.
It was hours later, Meemaw had left long ago and Jason disappeared into his room. When he descended the stairs, clad in his vigilante costume, he found Damian still sitting cross-legged in the living room. He was actually properly reading the book and Jason almost didn’t have the heart to interrupt him. 
“Did you bring your suit?”
“Of course.”
“Good. Get dressed. Meet me on the roof.” He knew he didn’t have to explain how to get up there, he'd find his way fine. 
By the time Damian finally joined Jason on the roof, Jason stood with his hands on his hips looking like an impatient mother. “Follow.” Was all the instruction Jason gave before he darted off in the direction of the next rooftop. 
When they stopped a few minutes later, Jason looked over to Damian, “Tired yet, kid?”
Damian shook his head, a neutral expression staining his face.
This continued for city block after city block. Mile after mile, they ran. Every few stops, Jason would look to Damian with a grin– a challenge of his own. And Damian would accept it every time.
Only when both of them were drenched in sweat and panting for breath did Jason finally speak again. 
“Tired?”
Damian stood hunched over, with his hands on his knees. Oxygen flooded his lungs as he breathed and sweat dripped off of his face. He didn’t even try and respond.
Jason just chuckled, huffing before setting off in a run again.
Only about five rooftops later did he think to look back. He didn’t think he would find Damian right behind him – on all-fours, his chest heaving. 
Jason silently came towards him, sitting on his haunches and placing a hand on his shoulder. His voice was gentler this time, “Tired?”
Damian’s eyes were screwed shut. Tears of exhaustion burned him. The stench of sweat invaded his nostrils. Every part of his suit clung to him in all the wrong ways. He wanted to tear every offending piece off of him. He wanted to scream but the exertion had stolen too much out of him.
Jason’s eyes narrowed. His hand rubbed soothing circles into Damian’s shoulder as he spoke, “Hey, it’s gonna be ok. You did good.”
No. No he didn’t. He had failed. He’d lost the challenge. He couldn’t have hoped to keep up if they had continued. He-
“Hey. Look at me.”
Slowly, Damian’s eyes opened. His ribs burned with embarrassment as his gaze lifted. 
“I’m sor-“ Damian tried.
“Stop.” His voice wasn’t too rough this time, he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. He’d been trained better than that. And yet Damian still winced. 
“Look at how far we came. How far you came.” He nodded his head to the horizon behind them, and Damian followed his guide to glance back.
He couldn’t even see Jason’s house anymore. He could only see an unfamiliar landscape dotted with buildings and rooftops. They had gone so far he couldn’t even recognize where in Gotham they were. 
“Where are we?”
“One of the newer suburbs, Bruce hasn’t mapped this part of the city yet. That’s why I love coming here.” He stood, moving to the edge of the roof.
“Why did you bring me here, Jason?” the way he said his name made his heart hurt.
“Because,” he grunted as he swung his legs over the edge and took a seat, “I wanted to remind you that you’re human. You can’t do everything. You can fall over because you’re exhausted. You can fail.”
Tears pricked at his eyes for a different reason now. His limbs screeched at him as he stood.
“I am aware that I am only human. I am reminded of that every single day.”
“Yeah, but did anyone ever teach you that that’s a good thing? That it is allowed?”
Damian reluctantly sat next his brother. It was late by now, the final streaks of dusk laying in the sky.
“I can hardly see how constantly being told that you are human is a good thing.”
“Told?”
Damian’s breath hitched.
Jason smirked, “There it is.”
The younger boy’s shoulders dropped. 
“So, who is it? Who do I need bury?”
He refused to answer.
“Damian if someone is hurting you, you are allowed to defend yourself. You don’t need to keep up this civilian charade when it comes to-“
“I know that. My civilian persona doesn’t have anything to do with this.”
Jason quirked his brow at this. A deep orange glow disappeared over the buildings and the final stars began to show. The theory Jason feared the most was rearing it’s ugly head.
“It was Bruce wasn’t it.” It was less of a question, but he was getting tired of beating around the bush. 
As the navy sky blanketed the city and snuffed out any of the golden sunset, Damian finally allowed himself to let go. Jason didn’t need to look over to see the tears flowing down his brother’s face, he knew. How ever silent Damian thought he was being or had been last night in Jason’s room, he knew. He also knew the pain. The pain of acceptance that came with acknowledging what had happened, and who did it to you. 
“I wasn’t fast enough. I deserved it.” Jason just let him talk, “We were training, and I- I failed. I could’ve been faster, stronger – I could have…”
It took a few more moments before he continued, “I got too tired. He caught me too many times. I-“
His voice broke when Jason pulled him towards his chest. He wrapped his arms around the too-young boy. Damian let his heart sink. He let his exhausted mind melt. He let himself be human for a second. 
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Dick Grayson: “I’m retiring from being Nightwing. Who wants it?”
Tim: “Not me. I retired first.”
Jason: “Not me. You wouldn’t catch me in that suit if I was dead.”
Damian: “I’m not interested Grayson.”
*Garbled “Ahem” from the nearby fish tank*
*everyone looks over*
Jarro: “My time to shine!”
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g1rlr0b1n · 1 year
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Tobias March and Damian Wayne art by @laurenillustrated
Here's the cover page image for my new (and ongoing) fic Gotham Blues on AO3.
Summary: Damian Wayne is facing his toughest challenge yet...High School. Not just any High School either, no Bruce Wayne has made good on his threat, Damian Wayne has been sent away to boarding school. Come along for the ride as Damian and his new roommate Toby March navigate high school, junior year.
Rated T for Traitors ("This whole family sucks!" -Damian)
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tarucore · 3 months
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DC has once again accidentally given Dick Grayson an interesting character trait by being repressed bigots and I can’t stop thinking about it
Specifically this time I’m thinking about how they keep queerbaiting Dick but it actually makes sense with his character if you think about it for two seconds
Because No, I Don’t Think That He Would be open about his sexuality with others, if he has come to terms with it at all
While I’d love to talk about the history of queerness in comics, I don’t have the energy for it right now. What I will say however is that modern day Dick Grayson is written as a very millennial character, in both fan-spaces and modern comics despite whatever age the retcons have set
I think people forget how far queer acceptance has come in recent history, twenty years ago, even ten years ago, we were not at the place we are now, it’s honestly insane how quickly things changed from 2015 to now
Like, No He Wouldn’t be ‘out and proud’ in the Gen Z sense, most older gay people that I know are private about their gender and sexuality, either because of bullying when they were younger, abuse, or the media never picturing queer people as anything other than villains or jokes
He’s had constant media pressure on him from an early age, in both aspects of his identity, his ethnicity already makes him stray from the ideal cishet WASP that a private school and Bruce’s social circles would want him to be, even as he got older his love life was in the public eye when he dated Kori as Dick Grayson
And that’s not even getting into how his relationship with his sexuality would be affected by his history of sexual abuse
Him appearing on pride covers/events or openly supporting queer people in the text is different from him turning to the audience and saying “Hey, I’m bisexual,” or “Did you know that I’ve always been demisexual and biromantic?” or even a “I like guys too,” and frankly it would be out of character for him to say so
For some people, being out to close family and friends is wildly different from ‘coming out,’ especially for a public figure like Dick Grayson or Nightwing is in his world. And I feel like that could make an interesting dynamic with a member of his family like Tim, who is out publicly as Tim Drake-Wayne. Tim who is written as a part of Gen Z in his early twenties or something rn (even though 90’s kid Tim will always have my heart)
And this is a personal anecdote but I’m thinking about how my little sister and I were standing in the checkout line one day and she starts talking about how gay an outfit that I tried on looked, and how quickly I changed the subject. She about nine years younger than me but old enough to know that we live in a conservative area. It was a bit panic inducing, and it’s so interesting to think about how even though I’m on the older side of Gen Z, I was still raised in a culture that said we don’t talk about these things especially not in public. Like I was still called a dyke in middle school but when I hit junior year all of a sudden it was trendy (if a bit fetishized) to be bi. She, thankfully, never really has to deal with that
So whenever he’s on a pride variant cover and people are complaining about a lack of formal representation, all I can do is seethe bc yes it’s completely in character for him but obviously detective comics comics isn’t doing it on purpose
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mickidona · 6 months
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Dynamic Duo......... 2 !
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jaysgirlx · 11 months
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Can you do a Jason Todd x reader where the reader doesn’t think she has a chance with Jason because “he’s a 10” and the reader has low self esteem
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❝ 𝐇𝐄’𝐒 𝐀 𝟏𝟎 ❞
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❥ pairing: jason todd x reader
❥ summary: jason has always call you names like pretty, gorgeous and beautiful and you could never fathom he ever meant them.
❥ warnings: insecurities, anxiety, crying & comfort.
❥ wc: 2.1k
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You sat on the roof of Wayne Manor as the rain poured down quickly. The roof was quite slippery at this point so you didn't mind staying up there a little while longer. It was just water right? You looked down from the roof, noticing Jason Todd also in the rain looking up at you with that dumb cheesy grin that never failed to make you smile.
Is he…looking at me?
He waved and for a brief movement, he seems as if he was thinking before you watched him attempt to try and climb the building while it rained. His looks definitely made up for his lack of brain cells. After many, many failed attempts Jason had actually managed to make it up there and sit down next to you. He could tell you were holding in a laugh but only smiled at you.
"Hey beautiful"
Your heart always fluttered at his compliments especially since you knew that you wouldn't ever hear them from anyone else.
"Hey Jason"
"Why are you up here in the rain? You could get hurt y'know"
You watched him relax and lay down a bit as the water washed through his dark black locs. You were too focused on his hair to even remember his question. Without asking you threaded your hand through his curls, at first it had startled him but it only took you seconds before you relaxed him by massaging his head gently. You'd never noticed how curly his hair was until now, probably because you'd never seen his hair yet. It wasn't fair that you had been deprived of such a sight for this long.
It wasn't long til it had started to settle into your mind that he liked to call you pretty, beautiful, cute and etc. You never corrected him because why would you, someone as hot as him gave you daily compliments that you didn't even deserve and it was all on his own accord. But that made you wonder, why would he do this. This Jason we're talking about. Jason that bitches about patroling with Dick. Jason that teases Tim about his boyfriend. Jason that somehow managed to trick Daimen into watching Gossip Girl. Why would he call you pretty?
"Jay?"
"Hmmm…yes pretty?"
Another flutter? Jeez, calm down.
"Ummm, why do compliment me so much?"
"Cause you probably don't hear it enough"
To you his words translated as, "No one probably calls you pretty" and it wasn't wrong. You never had anyone actually tell you they thought you were beautiful or stunning. While your mind wandered you began to chew on your bottom lip, thinking about all of your insecurities. Your weight, lack of confidence, feminism, looks and there was so much more, and day and night they ate at you, made you feel so inferior, so weak, almost as if you meant nothing.
Jason sits up causing you to quickly retrieve your hand from his locks. The rain had slowed and it was probably safe to get down. You could tell because it didn't take Jason much to get to the ground. He looked up at you, his cheeks tinted a pink hue from what you assumed was the rain.
"You coming?"
"Not yet, I'll see you at dinner, Jason"
Jason's mouth opened and closed multiple times, as if there were words he wanted to say but just couldn't form. After a while, he nodded and walked into, Leave you alone outside once again with your pathetic thoughts.
I'd never have a chance with a guy like him…
"Get off my case Grayson"
"I'm just trying to understand why you've been avoiding him lately"
"Can't we just enjoy our weekly lunches in silence?"
"I just want to help you y/n I swear"
You looked at Dick Grayson for a moment before taking a small bite of your sandwich. If you told him he'd get off your back and it's not like he'd tell Jason right? Once your voice found the words, you began "To me Jason is like a 10 and I'm…" your voice cracked slightly and you stopped talking instantly. You knew that if you had continued, you'd spill out all your dumb insecurities all those things that made you so pathetic.
"You're what y/n?"
"I'm like a 2/10 on a good day"
Is my self-esteem really this low?
The air between the two of you was deathly silent. You watched Dick's fists clench but quickly relaxed as his gaze met yours.
"Who told you that y/n? I want specific names. Did Jason say that to you? Tell me because if he did I will kick his ass if necessary-"
"Grayson, no one said anything. No one had to because I already know it and Jason probably already thinks it, he compliment me because he knows no one else will"
For a while you just looked at the table, you were sure that by now you were crying because of your blurred vision. You couldn't face Dick like this, you were a ticking time bomb waiting to explode and you didn't want him to hear you. So you left. You ran out of that cafe and got yourself out of there, right after grabbing your phone of course. Dick didn't need to hear all the things you hated about yourself and all the things that made you doubt everything aspect of your being.
Why am I like this?
Once you were out of there, you decided to go back to your apartment. Though you lived at Wayne Manor, you had your apartment in case you needed some private time or just somewhere to lay low. You decided it would be best to walk, so you could clear your mind a bit.
You wiped away your cold tears and tried to keep on a happy face or avoid drawing any unnecessary attention to yourself especially because of the scene you had probably caused at that cafe. This whole thing felt so dumb in your head, why did you have to avoid Jason. It was not like he was hurting you, if anything his compliments were one of the highlights of your days but maybe that was a good reason to avoid him. There was no point getting attached to someone who was definitely of your league.
You pushed those negative thoughts out of your head and decided before heading to your apartment, you'd do some shopping and maybe even buy yourself some food. Eagerly, you went to the nearest clothing store in the neighborhood and decided to splurge a bit on a couple new clothes then decided to treat yourself to some seafood as takeout. Little things like these were the only things sometimes that could make you feel loved.
When you had finally arrived at your place you were relieved. No one was there plus none of your neighbors were around so you could rest and relax in-
"hey there y/n"
You jumped at the dangerously familiar voice. Jason? Why was he here? In your apartment? You took a couple steps back, getting ready to make a run for it. You couldn't talk to him, not yet, and especially not after today's events. You looked up at him studying his body, he was dressed in his gear except his helmet was nowhere to be found and he had on a different shirt.
"Please don't run away, y/n," Jason said taking a step towards you. The two of you locked eyes for what seemed forever before Jason started to close the distance between the two of you and you let him. So many things raced through your head, you thought about pushing him away, running away again, or maybe just hearing him out. The thought of him being this close to you was a dream come true under the right circumstances but this wasn't the time to be thinking like this especially when you knew he didn't see you the way you saw him.
"Dick told me a bit about what happened earlier at the cafe, he said it would be best if I came to check on you," he said looking down at you. By now your back was pressed against the door and you'd dropped all your bags. You needed to get him out of here.
"Jason I'm fine, you can go"
You never would've thought Jason cared this much for you. So much that he broke into your apartment just to see you. But you were thinking of this all wrong, Jason was a nice guy who probably just wanted to clear things up that's all. There was nothing more to this and you had to convince him just as you convinced yourself that the two of you would never happen.
"Did you know I hate the rain?" he said quietly picking up your dropped bags. He grabbed the clothes and gently put the food in your hands. There was a voice in your head warning you to not drag this out any longer but you didn't want to listen this time. "But when I saw you on the roof the other day, suddenly I could tolerate it"
"So many bad things happened on rainy days but seeing you… that was best thing"
Jason grinned at you as he grabbed your bags filled with new items and clothes and placed them on your kitchen counter. He then motioned for you to come to sit with him on your couch once he was done. By then any sense of self-respect had gone out of the window now. Without much hesitation, you followed him which earned you a soft chuckle from him that sparked something in your chest.
"Y/n I think I gave you the wrong answer the other day"
He can't say anything worse than last time if I avoid it.
"For what?" A beat passed, and you looked up at Jason and he was… nervous? he was sweating and could barely make eye contact with you. He clearly had trouble finding his words and that was partially your fault because you knew exactly what question he was talking about and you could even admit it yourself. It was a stupid question that you had asked in the heat of the moment and you wished you could both forget about it and move on but that's not how things work. Though you regretted asking, you still listened to what he had to say.
"When you asked about why I compliment you so much. What I meant to say is that when I find a girl undeniably beautiful all I can ever do is remind her of it every fucking day"
There had never been a time that your heart had raced this fast until now. Jason took your hand and held it, softly as if you were going to break. The small space that you put between you on the couch was now gone as Jsson pulled you closer to him.t
"You are not a 2/10 sweetheart, you are so much more than that and I will do whatever it takes to make you see that," he said flashing you one of those cheeky grins you loved so much. If your face hadn't been red before, it was sure to be red now. It was at this moment that you knew he meant it. That Jason did not pity you and in fact thought that you were one of the most attractive girls he had ever seen.
Jason had wanted you to know for a while, he thought you did at first but after hearing from dick what you thought of yourself, he found himself willing to do anything for you to understand how you felt about you. How Jason Todd saw you and now you had no doubt now in the way Jason saw you.
"Jason you don't know how much that means for you to say that and how much I needed to hear that," you said as if you were out of breath even though you had only said a couple words. because this was literally breathtaking. "I really really like you Jay"
Jason looked at you before grabbing you into what was a mesh of a hug and a tight squeeze and saying, "Please don't say anything else just lemme hold you" he said quietly as he held your body close to his. squeezing his big arms around your waist and pulling you even closer together as if you'd run away if he dared to let go.
"Because I really like you too pretty girl"
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Always remember that you can be loved guys<3
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revenantbird · 2 years
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Zatanna: "What I need is a detective."
Me:
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thebatbaes · 1 year
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[ Hal Jordan, Conner Kent and Dick Grayson’s cameo in DC’s Terrors Through Time (2022): The Pueo Promise ]
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leafyforreal · 10 months
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HBO Titans really said
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urlocalpari · 2 years
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WFA SEASON TWO ISNHERE UNFOLLOW ME BC THIS IS ALL IK TONNA BE SCREAMINF ABOUT
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jewelt · 1 year
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