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sungbeam · 25 days

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BIRD HUNT — four

nonidol!choi line x f!reader

gotham city is a gutter running rampant with the ill, corrupt, and the insane. at times, justice and vengeance must be served by one's own hand... no matter the lengths one must go to do so.

▷ genre, au, etc. bat family au, dc comics inspired, dark, vigilantes au, slow burn, ceo/billionaire au, cat woman!reader, murder mystery au, action, suspense, angst, slow burn-ish?, love square??; choi line inspired by dick grayson (csb), jason todd (cyj), and tim drake (cbg), including bruce wayne for choi minho and damian wayne for nishimura riki, inspired by 2022's The Batman

▷ chapter warnings. swearing, mentions of death and murder, mentions of weaponry, depictions of violence, mentions of corruption, a funeral

▷ word count. 4.5k // taglist: open

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FILE_04 : death brings us together

gotham city.

[eight days since your mother was murdered.]

"Looking for this?"

Soobin's eyes took in the woman before him. You were dressed in all black, form-fitting clothing. Over the upper half of your face and head, you wore a black beanie with eye holes cut out and a cat ear silhouette on top. There was a thigh holster wrapped around your right thigh, and your hand was primed with a can of pepper spray. He had to give you props—simple, but effective. All the while, Beomgyu was still trying to hack out the chemicals from his mouth.

"That's why you wear full face coverings," Yeonjun coughed.

Beomgyu growled. "Shut up."

Soobin held up the thick folder in his hand, eyebrow lifted in your direction while pretending his brothers weren't making a fool of themselves as per usual. "So? Why're you snooping around here?"

"Did you shoot our Mr. Yang in the head?" Yeonjun chuckled, cocking his head to the side. "Bad, bad kitty."

Soobin caught the flash of panic in your eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it came. You felt familiar to him—your stature, the way you carried yourself. He couldn’t label why those aspects were familiar to him yet.

"Give me the file and I'll be on my way," you said. "No harm, no foul."

"All foul!" Beomgyu cleared his throat from behind you. He clutched at his throat, his tongue hanging out of his mouth like a dog. "You are so lucky I still have some morals left. That was rude!"

You rolled your eyes and cast a cursory glance over your shoulder. "Maybe you should carry pepper spray on you, too."

"I like her," Yeonjun said, completely unnecessarily.

Soobin shot him a look that said as much, and Yeonjun shrugged his shoulders as if he was helpless to his own running mouth. "Who are you?" He asked you.

"You first," you fired back.

"Ladies first," was Yeonjun's drawled reply.

Soobin massaged the space between his brows. "Okay, look. We really don't have the time to chit chat all night. So why don't we crack this file open right here—"

In the distance—no, that was right here. Right at this building. Car wheels squealed and engines roared, and Soobin looked to Yeonjun who had his body tipped out of the window and peered down at the street below. His hand reached for one of the pistols in his side holster with a groan. "You've gotta be shitting me."

"What? Who is it?"

Yeonjun grumbled an obscenity under his breath as he assessed the situation below on the street. "The Penguin."

Soobin shook his head. "Fuck this."

"Exactly."

"Ah, Bat Boys!" Trilled the obnoxious mockery of the Penguin's voice. Oswald Cobbletpot, better known by his moniker, the Penguin, was a well known mobster in Gotham, widely recognized as the owner of the Iceberg Lounge and in kahoots with some of the most dangerous and most powerful villains in Gotham. And one of the most annoying pests the vigilantes had ever had the displeasure of dealing with. What the hell was he doing here? "Are you finished chasing tail up there?"

"Chasin' tail—?" Both Yeonjun and Soobin's heads whipped around, but the space where you and Beomgyu had been was now empty. Instead, the office door out into the hallway had been busted open. There was only one way the two of you could have disappeared off to.

The two eldest brothers cursed their younger brother out. "Fuck this," they both groaned.

Beomgyu had just left them both high and dry to deal with the Penguin on their own while he could chase your tail… as if he had a chance of catching it in the first place.

Your heartbeat thundered loudly in your ears as you pressed your body up against the wall of the rafters. There was something so satisfying about hearing the Red Robin's noises of frustrations as he failed to find you in the labyrinth of wood scaffolding in the abandoned building. It was the old construction site of a skyscraper, but the project had been abandoned years ago, the project paused, and no one ever returned to finish it or buy it out. Wasted resources for them, but you had spent so much of your adolescence in this self-proclaimed jungle gym, discovering all of its kinks.

And when the Red Robin finally gave up on finding you on the fifth floor, you slipped out of your hiding place, back onto the shadowy streets. You skipped the well-lit places, quickly making your way across what felt like half the city, back to the Iceberg Lounge.

Part of you was grateful that the Penguin had shown up when he did, but the other half… you didn't know, really. Was it just a coincidence or had your father sent the Penguin out as a precaution? Was it worry or a lack of trust?

There was no real way to find out, you decided, as you were granted entry into the lounge. Because it was the ungodly hours of the morning, the nightclub was in full swing, and you squeezed your way past sweaty, crowded bodies. You had removed your mask while walking up to the door and tucked it into the back of your waistband. By the time you had made it to the elevator, your heart rate had slowed to a more regular speed—and then you remembered that you only had half of what your father had asked for.

He can suck it up, you thought to yourself, the elevator doors sliding open to reveal the entryway to your father’s penthouse suite, classical music floating in the air like an expensive perfume. There was a part of you, however, that worried there was actually something important tucked away in those files. Would you be led to your mother’s killer without it?

Well, there was only one way to find out.

Your father was seated in one of the armchairs with a book propped open in his lap. One leg was crossed over the other, and a glass of amber colored liquid sat on the coffee table next to the chair. He glanced up from his literature, eyes flickering up and down your form. “Where is the file?”

Something about that irked you. You dug the burner out of your thigh holster and tossed it to him. He caught it with one hand. “Back with the vigilantes.”

“Vigilantes?” His eyebrow arched.

You collapsed into the armchair across from him. Your bones and joints were already groaning and aching. Maybe you could just curl up here for the night… getting back across town to your apartment was just far too much effort—shit. You had to feed the cats though. “Yeah,” you said, your head resting against your fist, “how come you didn’t tell me Nightwing, Red Hood, and Red Robin were interested in Yang’s death? A warning would have been nice.”

Your father busied himself with the burner phone in his hands, eyebrows bunching up. “I sent the Penguin,” he quipped, his tone dismissive.

“I could have gotten killed. Or worse, found out.”

“But you didn’t.”

You scoffed. “Of course you would say that—”

His eyes sliced up from the phone screen to you, and you hated the part of you that wanted to shrink under his gaze. You supposed there was a reason why he was called the Capo, and why he had the power he did. It was one of the many reasons your mother never wanted you to have anything to do with him after those initial couple of years. “Your mother’s killer can do much worse to you.”

Your jaw snapped shut.

There was a satisfaction that rolled off him, and it made you shift uncomfortably.

You cleared your throat. “By the way.”

“Hm?”

“The funeral—” When he said nothing in reply, you continued, “I wanted to invite one more person.”

He nodded to you. “Of course, my dear. Who else would you like to invite?”

You exhaled. “Choi Beomgyu.”

Beomgyu had been awake for the entirety of the night. His body sat slumped in the desk chair behind the Bat Cave monitors, head buzzing and turning and working. With the assistance of about three cups of coffee, he had managed to distract himself enough from the fact that he had found you breaking and entering into a murdered man’s office tonight. Well, he supposed it was no longer “tonight," but “last night." Alfred had long since gone to bed after Beomgyu’s repeated insistence that he could take care of himself.

(Truthfully, Alfred never believed any of the Chois when they claimed they could “take care of themselves," but he had grown tired of arguing. He would watch after them and take care of them to the best of his own abilities. He never liked fighting with the Chois, even Minho, the boys’ father. The lot of them were more alike than any of them would like to admit. Alfred noticed much about the Choi family.)

Besides the fact that he had just physically brawled you last night, Beomgyu had been actively engaging his brain by finding out any and everything about you. The last time he’d seen you was the night of his sixteenth birthday, when the day afterwards, he was to move back into the Choi Estate. He never told you, and he never reached out to you again. He suspected you hated him for that—leaving without any explanation. He had grown so fond of you, and when you had said so blankly yesterday that you had been grieving your mother’s death…

A wave of grief and guilt washed over him once again, and he found himself reaching for his cup of coffee.

As he set the mug back down onto the desk, the sound of the elevator carriage and his damned brothers’ voices erupted into the quiet. Quiet gone too soon, he thought to himself as he massaged his temples.

“—evil! You are evil, I tell you! I was having such a good dream—”

Soobin audibly rolled his eyes (Beomgyu had learned that yes, this was, in fact, possible). “For the love of all things holy, shut the fuck up.”

When Beomgyu looked over, he sputtered out a laugh as he watched Soobin practically drag Yeonjun over to the desk by his ear. It was clear that Yeonjun had been forced out of bed from the strands of his dark hair sticking up everywhere and the disgruntled wrinkle in his forehead. Soobin looked slightly better, but only slightly. There was that telltale Choi family set of eye bags beneath his eyes, but his hair was slightly damp as if he had actually gotten up and showered.

Beomgyu subtly sniffed himself. He usually showered after coming home from patrol, but his lack of sleep was making him think he forgot to.

Soobin dumped Yeonjun right next to the desk, and the eldest crumpled to the floor like a sack of potatoes. “Hey! I could have hit my head against the corner, you dickwad!”

Soobin rolled his eyes again, coming by to lean over the arm of the desk chair and smack the manila folder from last night onto the desk, right in front of Beomgyu. He even startled slightly at the sound—coffee definitely didn’t do that for him.

Yeonjun muttered a string of obscenities and complaints under his breath as he crawled to his feet, only to perch himself on the table itself to peer at the unopened file folder. “Are we gonna open that thing or is it gonna keep bein’ a—”

“I think Ln Yn’s the cat woman.”

Soobin and Yeonjun turned to their younger brother, eyes suddenly awake. Beomgyu reached for his cup of coffee and took another sip before confirming, “That cat woman from last night? I’m pretty sure that was Ln Yn.”

“Ln Yn…” Soobin’s voice was barely audible, his eyes glazing over as he pondered that revelation.

Yeonjun waved his hands out in front of him. “Waiwaiwait—you think Catwoman is who? Who the fuck’s Ln Yn?”

Beomgyu leaned forward and pulled up a particular window on the main monitor. He had been doing some digging on you… not that that was creepy or anything (he was fully aware how creepy it sounded, but he swore to God he was just trying to catch up on what you had been up to lately). Your profile appeared before them, a small portrait in the top right hand corner. Notably, he had found this in the Choi Enterprises database.

Apparently, you had applied for a position at the company about a year ago. And upon further digging, Beomgyu had discovered that you had been one of many rejected applicants, but you had somehow fallen into the hands of Lee Sungjae. Someone must have recommended you, but he was working on finding that particular tidbit out, as well as who in the world decided to deny you that position—

Yeonjun squinted at the screen, then a lazy grin appeared on his face. Beomgyu did not like that smile on his brother so early in the morning. “Oh, hey! That’s the girl from the bank!”

Now, Yeonjun was at the center of his brothers’ attention.

He elaborated, flinging a hand at the monitor with your soft-smiling portrait. “I was telling you guys about this girl in the Gotham Bank vault the other week—that one badass chick—well, that’s her. She might also know that I’m the Red Hood—”

That woke Beomgyu up faster than any shot of espresso could. Soobin smacked his palm against his forehead. “Fucking christ, hyung.”

“Relax, it was only ‘cause I let her,” Yeonjun protested, then crossed his arms over his chest.

Soobin opened his mouth, most likely to rip Yeonjun a new one for such an arrogantly stupid mistake when a voice cut him off.

“Master Beomgyu.”

All three heads whirled as Alfred made his way from the elevator carriage and toward them. He seemed to be as put-together as always, hair combed back neatly and dress shirt crisp. Beomgyu had always admired Alfred’s ability to stay so sharp. He definitely couldn’t relate. The object in Alfred’s hand, however, was the point of interest for this morning. It looked like an envelope—wait, it was definitely an envelope. It looked expensive, too. Like that type of shit that the company would use for banquet or gala invites. Stupid 110-pound cardstock or something.

The envelope was placed in Beomgyu’s hands, and he examined the outside very carefully. He wasn’t the biggest fan of social functions, but sometimes they were a necessary evil… the thought died in his head and on his tongue when he read the return address on the back. Ln Yn.

His heart leapt, unmistakably. Why? He didn’t have a clue why.

But he was tearing into the flap a second later while everyone around him waited for a report. The Bat Cave had gone quiet as Beomgyu wrestled the expensive accompanying card out of its confines. Where had you gotten the energy to make invitation cards like this? Why were you inviting people to the funeral in such a fancy, unnecessary form? And why, in Hell’s name, were you inviting him?

Dear God, there was something inside him that awakened when his sleep-deprived eyes roamed over the words, however flowery, inviting him to attend the service of your mother’s memorial. You hadn’t forgotten him after all. And maybe this was a sign that you didn’t hate him.

“—Bro, who’s got him smiling like that?” The spell was broken.

Beomgyu cut Yeonjun a look, and the eldest simply replied with a wolfish smile. Beomgyu said, rereading the contents of the invitation for what felt like the thousandth time, “Yn invited me to her mother’s funeral.”

Soobin placed a hand on the back of the chair and leaned over Beomgyu to take a peek at the words. Beomgyu had this odd feeling that this was not what your handwriting looked like. It was far too… detached. Like a computer-made font kind of script. Not like the scrawl he remembered you had those couple of years ago.

“Well,” Soobin breathed out, “if Yn really is the Catwoman, as you said Gyu… then you need to go to that funeral to confront her.”

Beomgyu snapped the invitation closed and slid it back into the envelope sleeve. “I’m going there to honor her mother. Giving my condolences comes first and foremost.” His eyes shuttered. Fuck, he was praying to a god he didn’t believe in that he was mistaken—but he’d recognized your voice, your posture. That was you under that cat mask. “No matter if she’s the Catwoman.”

“Of course,” Soobin agreed, letting up off the back of the chair. “You’re right.”

“What the hell am I missing here?” Yeonjun piped up. His face was contorted in utter confusion. “Why is Yn even inviting you to the funeral, Gyu?”

“I believe Miss Yn is Master Beomgyu’s… friend from so long ago when he lived in the apartment,” Alfred answered, coughing slightly as he side-eyed Beomgyu with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

As Alfred made his exit from the underground headquarters, Yeonjun laughed. Beomgyu despised the way his eyebrows wagged suggestively at him. “Ooh, so Yn-ie was the Romeo to your Juliet, hm—”

“Don’t call her Yn-ie, old man,” Beomgyu fired back.

Yeonjun bristled at the bite, much to Soobin’s utter delight. “Whatever.” If there was one sure-fire way to get Yeonjun to shut up, it was by over-exaggerating his age. There were far too many times that he hated being the eldest Choi brother.

A smile danced on Soobin’s lips. “Okay, then that’s settled. Beomgyu’s going to the funeral and we’re pretty certain that Ln Yn is the Catwoman.”

Yeonjun reached down to the bottom drawer of the desk and pulled out that half-eaten bag of potato chips. “Now can we open up the file?”

Soobin nodded his agreement, and reached over Beomgyu’s shoulder to grab the file from the desk. Beomgyu and Yeonjun sat quietly while Soobin propped the file onto his forearm so he could open it up like a massive book. He flipped the cover open, and his head tilted to the side. He blinked—flipped to the next thing.

His skin paled.

His brothers questioned him.

Soobin’s lips parted slightly. “Holy shit… this is an exposé on the Capo.” No one had seen who the Capo was, but everyone felt his existence. He had his dirty fingers in every crevice of Gotham, almost every crevice, at least. It was one of the main reasons why he was still out and about, ruling the city like a kingdom. Despite the fact that very few people knew his true identity, the Capo was on everyone's hit list.

Yeonjun pushed, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Soobin replied, “that there might be enough evidence in my fucking hands to put away the Capo for life.”

Once upon a time, you loved your father.

That had been several years back, when your little teeth were still falling out, and you just barely reached your mother’s stomach. It was when your father had only been the accountant to the Iceberg Lounge, counting up bills and counting out expenses and the like. It was a dull job, but your father had been good at it. Maybe even the best at it.

Your mother loved him, too. She loved that he never asked for more, that he always smiled when she brought you into the office for a surprise visit, that he cared so deeply about you. There was this sparkle in his eyes when he looked upon you, your mother had once told you when she had stopped bringing you to the Lounge to see him. She explained in simple terms that he had changed.

For better or for worse—you just knew if your mother couldn’t stand to see him as he was then, that you wouldn’t be able to stomach it either.

You remembered how he hadn’t even fought to see you again. So you never did. You grew up just fine under your mother’s wing; struggles were constant and persistent, but you and your mother were even more persistent. No matter what befell the two of you, it would be just that—the two of you.

Sometimes you wondered what you might have turned out to be like if your father had fought to see you, to have an influence in your life. Maybe you would have ended up like him: empty, cold, alone.

The buttons on your dress jacket were large, but stubborn. The jacket was pretty with bell sleeves and a flared hem—definitely one of the garments that you had purchased after coming under Lee Sungjae’s employ. You didn’t have a lot, not now and not then, but after landing that secretary job with the Lees… you had only your secret benefactor to thank for recommending you. Lee Sungjae had never told you who it was, but his eyes had been teasing whenever he said that, and you could only guess that it hadn’t been your father.

Lee Sungjae had been a good man, but even good men wanted to succeed.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t wholly blame him for wanting that either.

A fluffy entity snaked its way around your heels and the cuffs of your slacks, the white fur now clinging to the hems. You lacked the energy to even admonish Kiyo for doing such a thing; you had literally just rolled away all the fur with a lint roller five minutes ago. You bent down with a sigh and picked up the mewling ball of fur into your arms so that your entire upper half was now fluffed.

“Time for the funeral, huh, Kiyo?” You murmured to her softly as you made your way out of your bedroom, and down the narrow stairs to the first floor. The rest of the cats were huddled around the food and water bowls. Many of them were unhappy that they couldn’t accompany you to the memorial service, and you had to admit that you wished they could be there, too. They had known your mother far longer than anyone else who had been invited to the service today. Plus, you figured you were way more comfortable speaking and interacting with cats than real people anyway.

You set Kiyo down and she trotted over to the nearest hoard of cuddling cats, and you looked on with a bittersweet smile. You always had this growing family of seven or so strays, but you yourself weren't a cat. You envied how close they had all gotten sometimes, and it baffled you how you were jealous of your own beloved cats. They weren't just pets, after all, but family.

You checked the time on your phone. It was time to go. So you picked up your purse from the bottom stair, slipped into your flats, and headed out the door for the funeral.

You had been careful with the list of people to invite, really. All of them had to be someone you knew, too, which wasn't too difficult since your mother always introduced you to people she was comfortable and close with.

The service had been brief, but as you watched your mother's casket be lowered into the ground, you realized that you would never see her again after this, except in images and dreams and memories. The longer you stared at the casket, the more you determined you hated how polished and expensive it was. You hated that your father had been the one to pay for it instead of you. Hated that he even had a hand in this, like he did everything.

The distinct feeling of eyes on the back of your head had you turning back to meet them. You almost started in surprise at the person you saw at the back, lingering on the edge of the crowd. You felt hands taking yours, hands clasping your shoulder, words in your ear, kisses to your cheek, sorries in the air—and then you were standing in front of Choi Beomgyu, who had come in a pressed, all-black suit and a bouquet of calla lilies. His eyes were rimmed red and silver, similar to your own, you imagined.

"I didn't know if you were gonna come," you confessed, crossing your arms over your chest. You realized that he had grown up—not just grown taller or handsome, but up. He wasn't the kid in the apartment next door who called you weirdo anymore.

Beomgyu's lips twitched into some sort of smile, but then a tear slipped down his cheek as a genuine one broke out onto his face. It was one of the most beautiful things you had ever seen. "Yn, I'd be stupid not to come. I'd be stupid not to pay my respects." He cleared his throat and shoved the bouquet into your hands, like they caught fire. "Here. These are for her."

"I'm surprised you remembered," you mused, walking over to place the bouquet among many others atop the dirt pile where they had buried the casket. Beomgyu walked beside you as you did.

"I'm surprised you remembered… me," his voice became quiet at the end. His eyes hadn't left you for a second, as if he had taken these few minutes to soak in the years he had missed. "Yn, I'm so sorry—"

You nodded, letting the words fall from his lips. He deserved to grieve, too.

"You're probably sick of hearing that, huh?" He said with a small chuckle. His cheeks glistened with tears, and he reached up to swipe them away. "I wish I was there."

That was when you shook your head. "No, you really did not want to be there." No one should have ever had to see something like that. God, that image of your mother on the floor in a pool of her own blood would be ingrained into your memory as thoroughly as the blood had sunken into the floorboards.

There was a flicker of confusion, before it disappeared. "I mean, I wish I was there—with you—and with your mother. That I never disappeared like that."

Your heart stuttered in your chest, and a different ache appeared. "Beomgyu, let's not talk about that. You're not sorry."

"I am—"

"How about if you buy me ice cream, I'll consider believing you." You just wanted the aching to stop. He had been a friend—a close one. You never had a lot of those, and you didn't exactly want your first reunion to be filled with this many sorries and regrets.

There was that familiar twinkle in his eyes. He licked his lips, smile peeking out like the sun through an overcast sky. "Sure. I owe you for all the hot chocolate anyway."

You grinned. "That's the spirit." It was as convincing as you could make it.

You could walk away from your mother's grave then. You thought you'd be stuck there for a few more hours after everyone had gone, but something told you that Beomgyu's appearance was important, and there was something else he had left to say to you.

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#txt x reader #choi yeonjun x reader #choi soobin x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #yeonjun x reader #soobin x reader #beomgyu x reader #txt oneshots #txt series #txt imagines #txt drabbles #txt scenarios #yeonjun oneshot #soobin oneshot #beomgyu oneshot #yeonjun imagines #soobin imagines #beomgyu imagines

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dcrelated · 2 years

Note

heyo idk if this is the format you want your requests to be in or not so i hope this is okay…

could i request a tim drake x reader fluff where the two of them get up in the middle of the night and sneak down to the manor’s kitchen to make a snack and then freaking out because they didn't stop the microwaves' obnoxious beeping in time and now they’re pissing themselves trying to laugh quietly?

idk if you need anymore info lol. i’m guessing the requests are gender neutral aha

This is so cute. I’m gonna kinda go off that one tik tok sound where it’s like “stop being so loud 👹”

Summary: gn reader x Tim drake established relationship. Literally just fluff

Enjoy ♡

——————

Tim had asked you to sleep over tonight at the manor. It was his off day from training, and you were so excited to get the extra time with him. It was currently around four thirty in the morning. Everyone has just come back from patrol and has since gone to bed. Your boyfriend however, was Tim Drake. The man who sleep maybe an hour a night, living off of caffeine. It amazes you how he manages to work, go on patrol and not pass out.

You two are in his room, laying on his cuddling and watching your favorite movies. “Tim.” You look up at him, giving him your best puppy eyes. “Yes, my love?” He’s smiling down at you, already prepping for whatever you’re about to ask. “I’m hungry. Can we get something to eat?” He chuckles, he can’t help it, you’re just so cute. “Yes.” He says, getting up off the bed.

He leads you through the long, winding hallways, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. Flicking on the lights the two of you start looking through the cabinets for something to eat. You groan, annoyed at your lack of options. For people so rich there’s no snacks. “Why do you guys only have ingredients!” You whisper shout at him. He snorts, trying to keep his laugh quiet. “Because we have Alfred.” You huff at him. “This is why I say eat the rich.” You glare at him. He only continues laughing.

“Oh!” Tim grabs your attention. “We have our left overs in the fridge.” You give him a look, “I’m listening.” Alfred had made you both your favorite dinner as a treat for you. “But it’s cold.” You start to pout. “Baby, you’re smarter than that.” Tim deadpans. “We have a microwave.”

“Right, my bad.” You laugh at yourself. I guess lack of sleep is affecting you more than you thought it would. Tim grabs the leftovers and puts them in some bowls for the both of you. He places the bowls in the microwave and presses it to start. “You’re being so fucking loud!” You whisper shout at him again. “I can’t control the microwave!” He retorts. “You’re the best hacker in the world! You should be able too!”

Play fighting with Tim had to be your favorite pass time. He matched your energy every damn time, making it so much more hilarious. The two of you were laughing as quietly as possible which was only making everything more funny. You both were too distracted to notice the time left on the food. The microwave beeps and scares makes you jump. “God damnit! Why are you so loud!” You playfully hit Tim. Tim doesn’t respond, he can’t, he’s laughing to hard. You start laughing too until the both of you are on the floor.

A louder laugh escapes you by accident, you couldn’t stop it. “Shut the fuck up!” Tim playfully scolds you making you laugh harder. “I’m crying!” You look at him, tears of laughter streaming down your cheeks. Tim only laughs harder at you. “This is so fuckin’ dumb.” He says, finally catching a breath. You nod in a agreement, wiping your eyes. “We should go back to your room before we wake someone up.” You said, smiling at him lovingly. Tim nods and grabs your bowls. You both head upstairs and continue watching movies.

Once you’re done, he brings the dishes down and climbs into bed with you. As you drift on into sleep, you can’t help but think about how lucky you are. I mean who else are you gonna laugh that hard at absolutely nothing with? No one but Tim.

——————

I really suck at ending stories but it’s okay. I hope this was satisfactory anon! And I hope you all enjoyed reading it ♡

#tim drake x reader #tim drake #fanfiction #reader insert #batman #batboys

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ao3feed-timkon · 2 years

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One mansion in Gotham is home to so much drama

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/HB2CgSX

by LittleWheel

Jason Todd has been dead for years, or so it was thought. Now, Batman is back in contact with him, and he wants Dick Grayson back in his life, too. Dick isn’t going to visit Gotham alone, though, he’s bringing his team with him, and they are more than excited to meet the batfamily! Or: the teen titans officially meet Dick’s other family, and Raven and Gar have a lot of sexual tension that will only get more obnoxious before it’s resolved.

Words: 2860, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Teen Titans - All Media Types, Teen Titans (Animated Series), Batman (Comics)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M, Multi

Characters: Raven (Teen Titans), Garfield Logan, Dick Grayson, Koriand'r (DCU), Victor Stone, Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Cassandra Cain, Barbara Gordon, Stephanie Brown, Tim Drake, Duke Thomas, Damian Wayne

Relationships: Garfield Logan/Raven, Raven/Jason Todd, Dick Grayson/Koriand'r, Jinx/Victor Stone, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent

Additional Tags: Slow Burn, kind of a love triangle but you should know going in that BBRae is end game, Nothing against JayRae, I’m a sucker for that too, Smut as sidequests, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Smut, I get annoyed when characters are stupid but sometimes that’s in character, In this house we believe in communication and bi for bi relationships, Most characters are some type of queer and you can’t escape it, but this is mainly a bbrae story with some exploration of jayrae

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/HB2CgSX

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #timkon

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ao3feed-brucewayne · 2 years

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One mansion in Gotham is home to so much drama

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/AgcoS5a

by LittleWheel

Words: 2860, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Teen Titans - All Media Types, Teen Titans (Animated Series), Batman (Comics)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M, Multi

Relationships: Garfield Logan/Raven, Raven/Jason Todd, Dick Grayson/Koriand'r, Jinx/Victor Stone, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/AgcoS5a

#IFTTT #bruce wayne #batman #the dark knight #the cape crusader #gotham #dc universe #ao3 #ao3feed

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redrobin-detective · 2 years

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Jack and Janet Drake

I keep reading Tim Drake centered fics and finding so many varied and interesting takes on the Drakes so I thought I’d put out my own.

Janet Drake was born into the monied Drake family. They weren’t as old or as wealthy as some of the other Gotham families but the name had power and influence. She was the youngest, far removed from the inner works of the business but still benefitting from it. As a young girl, she was brought up in society, a darling doll then a debutante. Her mother, like so many others, pushed her to try and snatch the reclusive Bruce Wayne but it never really interested her. As a pampered young woman who never had to worry about anything nor had anything really expected of her, she decided to go her own way. The delicate socialite lifestyle wasn’t really for her, she liked history, she liked the dirt. She studied archeology at Gotham University and that’s where she met Jack.

Unlike her privileged upbringing, Jack had it much harder growing up. He wasn’t living in poverty, in the worst parts of Gotham but it still wasn’t great. From a young age he had to work but it rankled him to work hard and have his money taken away for family things. His father was abusive and his mother overworked and he resented them and their miserable lifestyle. He met Janet at university while he was working 2 jobs to pay for school. They hit it off right away, both being passionate for the study of the past and craving the exciting, wandering existence of an active archeologist instead of being bound by desks and books. Everyone around them said it wouldn’t last, that they weren’t suited for the long term. They were right.

Jack was so different from everyone she’d known. Initially said yes to his dates because it would annoy her mother but soon found common ground in complaining about parents and things. She liked that he had some roughness to him, like she was getting a taste of the ‘real world’. It didn’t help that he was attractive and she liked being something of a sugar mama to him, it made her feel good. She didn’t understand him at all when she married him, considering him more like a partner/helper for work than a true husband. Yes he was cute and charming but she never thought of him as an equal. Not really. As they continued on, all the parts of him she’d found ‘charming’ before were now annoying and aggressive.

Jack genuinely liked Janet but her entitlement, stubbornness and lack of practical understanding about the world angered him. He kept a tight lid on his frustration while they were dating and into their early marriage but as time continued he began resenting the differences between them more and more. He would think later that they would have stayed better as casual friends and was big enough to admit one big reason he got down on one knee is the guaranteed funding source being married to a Drake would have for their, his, expeditions. Kind of shady he would say but he was an angry, broke college kid.

They married against her parents’ wishes in a small ceremony. Janet was determined to go through and, as a younger daughter who wasn’t in a position to inherit, it was allowed. Jack changed his name to Drake. They finished their degrees and began their expeditions which were also just travel excuses. Jack and Janet wined and dined and travelled on the Drake’s dime and it was good. Jack, who resented Janet’s stuck up attitude, soon become swept up in the glamor of it as well. He tried to leave the old him behind.

Several years into their marriage, Janet unexpectedly fell pregnant. They had agreed early on that they wouldn’t have kids as they travelled too much. An abortion was planned and never followed though, maybe a kid would be fun, maybe it would save their marriage. Less than a year later, Timothy Jackson Drake was born. Jack and Janet were happy, loved their kid but they didn’t love all that came with being parents. Janet had a hard time bonding, postpartum depression and Tim being an obnoxious, fussy baby made spending time with him unwelcome. Jack was determined to be a better father than his abusive one and thought providing financially would make things better. But though they did love Tim, the allure of travel called so they often left him with Nannies and housekeepers while they jetted off. Janet and thus Tim were Jewish but Janet was overall indifferent, she did occasionally get bursts of interest and celebrate at random with Tim which remain some of his happiest childhood memories with his mom.

Sometime midway through Tim’s early childhood, Janet’s elder sibling died suddenly leaving them with majority holding in Drake Industries, something neither of them wanted. They only knew how to spend money, not make it and had no idea how to control a business. Jack and Janet’s marriage had already begun showing cracks when Tim was a baby but this really tipped them over the edge. Screaming arguments became the norm as they tried to balance their expeditions and the company. Tim became less and less of a priority as he was getting older and could manage on his own. To be independent was the best thing a child could be. They loved him, doted on him when they were home but they made it clear they had other more important things to do. Tim was never truly neglected, he had food and shelter arranged, someone was always checking on him and his parents DID call and write. It was just very formal and very distant.

Tim had plenty of freedom to indulge in his hobbies behind his parents’ backs when they were either out of the country or trying to sort through DI’s board of directors. He loved his folks, treasured them like rare artifacts he knew of fleetingly and thus coveted. But he also knew not to expect anything from them. He knew things were stressful between them, was very nervous about a potential divorce around the corner but unsure of what to do about it. Robin distracted him from a lot of those fears until they no longer became relevant. It took a while for Tim to cry over his mom’s death and in the end it was because he hadn’t really known her at all and now never would.

Jack really only properly looked at Tim once coming out his coma and realizing his kid was a teenager and he had no idea who he was. Tried to parent, had no idea how, was emotionally abusive and manipulative to Tim to try and be the son Jack thought he needed. Fell in love with Dana who he freely admits he loved more than he did Janet. Couldn’t open up to Tim, was unable to see Tim as he was instead of who he expected him to be. They struggled to bridge the gap and were only just getting there when Jack was killed. Tim cried right away because he’d had a taste of what a true parent could be only to be taken away without ever knowing more.

TLDR: Jack and Janet were both flawed, selfish but very human people who probably shouldn’t have married but did for various reasons. They never planned on having kids so Tim was a surprise they had but refused to really alter their life in any way to suit the new addition. The growing cracks in their marriage following Tim’s birth and sudden acquisition of DI lead to a downward spiral that was only cut off by Janet’s death and Jack’s injury. Jack tried later but his selfishness and short sightedness made it hard for him to connect to Tim until it was too late.

#jack drake #janet drake #this got suuuuper long sorry #will put under readmore #Jack doesnt strike me as a born from wealth character so much as a 'poorer person gets wealth and becomes an ass bc of it'#so Janet was the entitled heiress who thought everything would work out no matter how much damage she caused #good for her for not letting society conform her but also bitch can you not think of yourself for 4 seconds #2 selfish narcissists have a kid and fuck him up so much that Batman looks great in comparison #any way most of this is pure fanon but I'll still believe it to the day I die

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crypterion-moon · 3 years

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Tiamat: Rise in Shadow p.1

Summary: His name used to be Tim, once Robin, then Red Robin, then everything just turned Red. Now he’s a shadow of the young man he used to be, not even a shadow. A monster with the face of Timothy Drake Jackson that loved to sleep with strangers and kill when it suited him.

But his time is coming and he must make his choices or be swallowed up by the past, not even his newfound family can save him from that.

Tags: Vampires, a bit of angst, supernatural

A/N: This chapter was written and not corrected, so apologies for the amateurish writing and typos but AO3 already has this so no point in trying to change anything now

Movement beside him, the bed suddenly bereft of a presence shifted Tiamareshka awake. Far too early for his taste. He cracked open one lazy eye and saw the light seeping through. He promptly shut it again. Any point in the day was too early for Tiamareshka , he had never claimed to be a morning person. Unluckily, the person next to him was and work was very important for humans in this society. The sounds of pants, shirts being pulled on, belt buckles being done and a clear thud of the hone on the dresser reached his ears, it felt refreshing to hear such domestic sounds. To not work and earn your living is a failure in the eyes of your mother and father, to not contribute to society is to be a burden. Nothing to do with Tiamareshka though, he planned to laze around in the stranger's bed for while longer. At least until night falls again. He rolled over on his side, his arms curled up at his chest and facing the wall, he muttered something unintelligible, which comes out in a soft groan. The bed dipped again, this time Tiamareshka could feel lips trailing and kissing their way down his body, from his curled shoulder along each rib, the blanket that covered the lower half of his body was lifted as the man planted a few soft, lingering pecks on his hip.

“Morning beautiful.”

Tiamareshka let out a soft moan, just to tease, “Mmmm, don't you have work today?”

“I wish I didn't.”

Tiamareshka smirked, his body curled up slightly more, raising his hips slightly higher for some more kisses which his partner for the night happily obliged, his hands stroking along his legs and slipping in between Tiamareshka 's pale thighs.

“Will I see you again sometime?”

Tiamareshka hummed with approval, “Same place after dark.”

“Okay,” the man grinned nibbling playfully at Tiamareshka 's ear, “I'll see you soon.”

Tiamareshka listened to the rustling of clothes, and the closet. He heard the man leave the room and pick up his keys for the bowl in the hallway, and the door clicked shut.

He thought about letting himself turn a bit, just some black smoke so he could return without having to physically get up and walk, his body ached deliciously though. Last night was fun and satisfying in one go, though the man was far too tender for his comfort. The idea was that it would just be a once off, non-committal thing where the two of them could have fun but it seemed more like this guy was looking for something more but wasn't aware of it. Tiamareshka wriggled about under the covers and took in the scent that clung to the bedsheets, the scent of another human was so addictive. Such a sweet man but rather desperate and lonely, it would be a shame to kill him, even by accident.

The smell and presence of humans, was almost too much in the small space that was this seedy club, and Tiamareshka loved it. He could taste the energy flowing and permeating the air. His hunting place, his one stop for a bit of fun and food.

The hip-hop trance mix that pulsed around the club was a bit on the obnoxious side but not totally intolerable, the laser light that swirled around the floor was quite irritating so he'd settled himself on the other end of the place where a warm light filled the bar and lounge area still in view of the dancefloor. If it wasn't such a popular place with good choices, he wouldn't even bother coming here.

Sitting at the bar, Tiamareshka glanced over each face, searching for an acceptable companion for the night. As his eyes scoured over each face, they would sometimes meet with another and often, they would stare and blush. Unable to tear their eyes away, Tiamareshka could send them the most devilish look and they'd quickly hide or look away in embarrassment. He'd know when they looked back at him when they thought he'd turned his gaze. People were so easily tempted even when he wasn't trying. Look in their direction in a certain way and it's hook, line and sinker.

It was so much fun fooling around with them, especially the dumb ones but only a few were worthwhile.

And tonight, the pretty lady in with the shiny jacket should make a nice meal.

She was healthy, energetic and indeed very full of life...as well as herself. Stupid woman, vain and overestimating, her body screamed for attention, for men to worship her because she deserved it. She'd put down and humiliated a lot of people for her own gain. Tiamareshka had avoid looking any further or he'd be turned off by such a rotten soul. For now, he was hungry.

One wild night proved fun though it left the woman almost completely drained but he always made sure not to let that happen, Tiamareshka was careful about that. The consequences weren't pretty.

What he wasn't prepared for was the woman talking and making noises in her sleep, which irritated Tiamareshka from sleeping that he had to leave the apartment complex. He slipped out through the window, leathery wings unfurling and soared noiselessly up towards the sky. Tendrils of black wispy smoke slithered out from beneath his skin and around his body, solidifying and materializing as clothing, conveniently. He smirked and he continued to soar over the city before settling on one of the buildings that had a nice domed tower to it, perfect for a resting place. It was annoying having to leave so soon. At least it was a beautiful moon night.

His breath ghosted in the chill air which blew softly across his skin as Tiamareshka laid down on the metal. He stared up at the and watched the city moving and breathing angrily down below, Gotham was always such a miserable place. The embodiment of filth, probably no better than the city of Sodom though that may be exaggerating. It had a protector after all. He wasn't sure if it was the city that made Batman that grim icon or the other way around. Perhaps it was that vicious cycle. Tiamareshka could remember the way Bruce moved, silent and imposing, promptly followed by a young boy in yellow, green and red, laughing at the world. With no pants.

Tiamareshka smiled wryly. Thinking of Batman and Robin brought back so many memories, the good and bad, they both made his heart ache, what's left of it any way.

He turned over and tucked his wing against himself. He'll sleep them away, just for a little while before he moves on.

There's blood on his hands, on his face, in his mouth. Red all around him, pooling at his feet. But he isn't looking, it's his hands he can't tear his eyes away from. Tiamareshka 's hand, didn't look like a human's anymore. The fingers were long and protruding from them were long black claws and they were all red, saturated in warm liquid. It comforted him and horrified him at the same time, like coming out of a high. Not his blood, he looked up. Across from him were corpses, the dead, cooling bodies of his friends, the league and Dick?! Bruce!! Damian...oh god oh god, who did this? He looked around and saw no one, no one else but him and...Jason.

But the man wasn't wearing a mad deranged smile like he remembered once, it was a look of horror and pure fear. His hands were clean.

Why was Jason looking at him like that?

Suddenly, the Red Hood turned away and walked, Tiamareshka tried to get up and follow but he was stuck, unable to move. He called out to Jason.

“You monster.”

Tiamareshka woke up to the cool air rapidly warming as the sun rose up over the cityline. Damn, he didn't think he'd sleep the whole night away, it was dawn and he wasn't prepared to take on the full glare of the sun. He was lucky he didn't run into the bat, or the bird for that matter. That would be beyond awkward. He slinked away under the cover of the sun's shadow. He settled down again in his favourite spot, fatigue taking over again. He cursed internally at that damn dream, it always deprived him of rest no matter how long he tried to sleep. He suspected the longer he was in it, the worse it would make him feel and right now, he felt like he hadn't slept in three days. It reminded him so much of his sleepless vigilante days it was almost funny, almost.

“Tiamat.”

A voice whispered to him where he hid, sheltered from the sights of passers-by, high behind the golems of Gotham. Tiamareshka stirred from his curled sleep, listening to the multitudes of voices hissing and sighing inaudibly in the background. The space before him twisted and warped with dark energy. Then a figure stepped out from the swirling mass and onto the stone. Greeting Tiamareshka with a wide, crooked smile.

“Petrakar.” The boy responded with a half giggle, his coal black, tight suit rippled with his body.

“Still fooling around? I know you were overly serious before but this takes the cake.”

Tiamareshka snorted with contempt, he almost wished he'd ignored the sly bastard but he wasn't bothered with moving. Instead he let his tail answer for him, swatting at Petrakar with an impatient flick. Of course, it did nothing since he was only a mirage and it passed through his wispy form like it was just smoke, distorting Petrakar's image only briefly before it settled back in place.

“Someone's moody today.”

“Did you call just to annoy me?”

Petrakar sat down beside a curled up Tiamareshka and reached over, brushing stray strands of hair from his face. As much of an illusion as it was, the boy still felt very real and right there, though his touch felt more like breaths than anything physical.

“You've been seeking out human comfort frequently as of late, have the nightmares returned?”

“...They have always been there, sometimes they're not as bad but then they get louder, clearer, like I'm living it all over again. It happened again last night, when I left early.”

Petrakar said nothing for a long time, the sound of their breaths drowned out in the city's hum. Tiamareshka considered sleeping right here while he could feel Petrakar's presence. He could ask him to stay for a while while he rested but seeing as he wasn't truly here in the flesh, no doubt he was occupied. It pained Tiamareshka to acknowledge how much he needed contact, companionship to chase those damn nightmares away. He felt weak and helpless against himself, he could feel that part of him mocking at him for such dependency, letting it slowly eat him away.

It was all his fault of course, your fault your failure murderer murderer demon monster, Jason can't even look at you now, not even Alfred.

Tiamareshka gasped in shock, clutching at his breast in pain. Petrakar still at his side reacted accordingly prying Tiamareshka 's fingers from his chest and holding them.

“Stop, don't let it get to you again. Come on, Tiamareshka , stay with me.”

Can't here, can't see, only the thing inside trying to claw it's way back out, take over again. Your fault their fault unwanted, they abandoned you, it's only natural to make them pay, make you pay, watch the world burn, let's do it.

Look what they did to you.

“Look at me!”

Tiamareshka was gasping for air, suddenly seeing Petrakar again. He wasn't aware of the tears in his eyes. All that act, all those disgusting nights with endless streams of face, voices, praises but he wasn't beautiful. He was damned. Trying to claw his way out of hell.

Petrakar looked at him with eyes that mirrored his, his suffering, Tiamareshka 's own pain, they all had suffered, had to so they could be together this way, but he, she told him he wasn't ready yet. When?

Petrakar leaned down and placed a tender kiss on his lips, breathing for a minute, “Something is coming your way, Tiamareshka , and it's nearly your time.”

Tiamareshka sat up legs bent behind him as he searched for meaning behind those words, Petrakar's rust colored eyes gave nothing away, “I don't understand.”

“Thing's are going to change.”

Tiamareshka dipped his gaze, completely losing the mask and being that confused, over-analyzing boy he once was, serious and curious all at once. Robin, not Robin. Petrakar smiled a little sad smile and began to fade from sight, his ghost hands still caressing Tiamareshka 's face, “I hope for the better,” Tiamareshka said.

“We all do.”

#vampire!tim #incubus!Tim #vampires #angst #fanfic #fantasy #alternate universe #dc #dcau

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thattimdrakeguy · 5 years

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James Tynion IV’s writing for Tim Drake still bugs me.

It’s been over a year now I believe or at least close since James Tynion IV’s run on Detective Comics has concluded, but I’m still annoyed at it. Almost purely because of the way he writes Tim.

It isn’t a hard search to find James Tynion talking about how he loves Tim, but he just can’t write the character that well, and sometimes I remember things he’s said and get even more annoyed.

Cuz he says stuff like this.

So he knows Timmy’s an awkward, earnest teenager, right? This is from his Tumblr post. So this is him.

https://jamestynioniv.tumblr.com/post/174168993023/a-few-words-about-tim-drake-and-detective-comics

He also knows he isn’t the best fighter, or a charming ladies man too.

These are very accurate ways to describe what Tim is and what Tim isn’t, and I can’t deny that, but it doesn’t add up to how he writes Tim at all, because just look.

He doesn’t follow up on what he says,

because he makes him both charming, and a ladies man.

He also makes him a good fighter.

Like he takes on an army of drones by himself. While Tynion also says he isn’t the best fighter. It doesn’t feel consistent. While he might not literally be the best compared to Cass, you’d think Tynion wouldn’t make Tim out to seem like the second best fighter or anything, if he knows he isn’t that good. The hero takes out the bad guy no matter what. So I expect Timmy to win, but he takes on an army of killer drones with guns for a long freaking time before it wears him down.

He’s not even awkward or earnest in the slightest besides maybe once when he meets Steph again after he comes back from that weird prison. He’s incredibly confident actually. He even gets changed in front of Steph like it doesn’t bother him, even though a better written Tim wouldn’t ever do that, cuz ya know, he’s awkward.

There’s even stuff were he says this.

He says he collected the full run of Young Justice. He seems very proud of that fact as far as I can tell, and one of the major plotlines of his Detective Comics: Rebirth run was Tim wanting to create a Utopia.

Which ends up being a borderline fascist thing by the end of it, but I think he got it from this in a Young Justice issue.

BUT

The thing with that is if he actually read and studied Young Justice like how he acts, he’d know that Tim’s just playing a character when he says stuff like that.

And that Tim actually wants to stop being Robin within his life time so he can be normal.

Although this panel is from Nightwing(1996) #6 (I’ll fix this if I got the issue wrong.

Irregardless even, it’s not like Tim said he was gonna get control over the freaking paramedics and police like how Tynion takes it.

Just listen to yourself sometime, Tynion. It bugs me so much how he’s self-aware about what Tim’s like, and talks about how much he loves Tim, yet does the exact opposite of who Tim is anyways.

This dude’s gonna write Batman.

The guy seems to know better yet he doesn’t do better. So stuff like this just comes off as extra obnoxious to me. He knows what Tim is and what Tim isn’t, yet he writes what Tim isn’t, and ignores what Tim is, like what a cluster of nonsense that is. His artists can’t even make Tim look right either.

He adds stuff in like Steph, Ives, the Redbird, and even a costume closer to 90s Tim like it makes his stuff as good as 90s Robin, but it’s just not because he couldn’t get the actual character right.

Part of me is certain he has a crush on Tim seeing how his artists draw Tim in a more conventionally handsome way to the point it don’t actually look like Tim, and he has both men and women fawn over him.

If he liked Tim so much. Why was it so hard for him to write him well?

#Tim Drake #DC Comics #James Tynion IV #Detective Comics #Young Justice #Young Just Us

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fishfingersandjellybabies · 5 years

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When You’re The One Who’s Loved - fic

For @northoftheroad! Thank you a million times over for donating. <3 Their reward request was anything with Dick and Damian.

Characters: Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne, Tim Drake Summary: Damian doesn’t understand why Dick is so upset. Tim does, though. A/N: If it’s not obvious, Tim and Damian are on pretty good terms here. The box got there so quickly because Dick called Wally, and yeah it probably came from Selina on loan (because Bruce won’t allow it to be permanent of cOURSE probably). When Damian falls asleep, Dick asks Tim wtf Damian was talking about and Tim just said “we talked shit about you while you were gone.” Damian, of course, recovers eventually.

There was a sharp inhale in the doorway, cutting of his and Tim’s conversation as they both looked over.

“…Oh, great.” Damian droned at the sight of his eldest brother. Dick didn’t react, face already solemn and gray.

And it was probably rude – he of course was thrilled to see Dick. They hadn’t seen each other in months, and contact had been minimal in the in-between.

But he didn’t want Dick to see him like this. Confined to a bed due to injury from a recent case. Covered in bandages that kept obnoxiously bleeding through.

Weak and a failure.

Father had promised to keep it a secret. Drake only knew because he was present, was basically the one who saved him. Got him out of the situation and was Alfred’s assistant during the subsequent surgery. Was only here now doing the surgery follow-up, and it just so happened to turn into a personal visit.

Tim stood from his chair. “When’d you get in?”

“Few minutes ago.” Dick murmured, refusing to take his eyes off Damian.

Damian crossed his arms, and couldn’t find it in him to hold the stare. “Who told you?”

“Cass.” Dick returned, just as monotonously, just as blankly. Like he was on complete autopilot. “Said Bruce has emotionally shut down about it, and has buried himself in his work. Said Alfred was worried the operation wouldn’t fix it, and an infection would take hold. Wanted me to come, in case…”

Tim and Damian waited. Tim’s shoulders slumped as Damian demanded, “In case what?”

Dick opened his mouth, but whatever the word was, he seemed almost unable to say it, and just began shaking his head instead as he walked forward.

Damian wanted to be annoyed. Wanted to pout and turn his brother away. But…he missed him. Missed his affection. And as much as he didn’t want to admit it – he hurt. His body hurt, and even a quick embrace from his former partner felt like it would just fix everything.

Tim stepped out of his way, watching silently as Dick sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped an arm around Damian’s shoulder, basically dragging him protectively into his side.

“How you feeling, kiddo?” Dick whispered into Damian’s hair.

Damian just shrugged, because it all hurt worse than the thing before, and he couldn’t think quick enough to give a lie.

“…So far so good, Dick.” Tim promised. “I know we were…we are all worried, but Damian’s a fighter, and all the things Alfie and I were worried about from the surgery haven’t manifested. Grant it, he’s still under observation for another forty-eight hours, but…I’m feeling good about it.”

Dick nodded silently, just gently rubbing his fingers up and down Damian’s arm. Damian just stared softly up at him.

“Really.” Dick whispered with a careful smile. “How are you feeling, Damian?”

Damian shrugged again. “I hurt. But I guess that happens when they puncture your lung a few times and slash through your aorta.”

Dick’s fingers twitched against his arm almost violently.

“…Anything I can do to help?” Dick hummed as he swallowed the lump in his throat. “Make you feel better?”

“Bring me a basket of kittens.” Damian drawled. He laughed at his own joke, but immediately flinched and clutched his chest.

“Who’d have thought I’d have to tell sour puss Damian Wayne to stop laughing.” Tim snorted himself. “But relax, you’ll tear the stitches.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Damian waved off, trying to look tough. Difficult, when Dick shifted to stand back up, and his face betrayed him by morphing into one of disappointment against his will. “Grayson?”

“I’ll be right back.” Dick sounded distracted as he stepped away. But then he paused, glanced back, gave a tight smile and grabbed Damian’s hand for a moment. “I will be right back.”

Damian and Tim watched as Dick all but ran from the room, pulling a phone from his pocket. Tim sighed and shook his head as he sat back in his chair.

“…What’s his problem?” Damian scoffed nonchalantly, trying to break the mood Dick had left in his wake.

But then Tim looked up at him with curiousness that made him uncomfortable. Nervous.

But then Tim smiled, and leaned back in his chair. “You’re cute.”

Damian scowled. “Excuse me?”

“You’re young and I keep forgetting that, and it’s just so cute how…naïve you are.” Tim laughed. But when the laugh died down, his older brother looked sad. “…Dick loves you.”

“I’m…aware.” Damian hummed. “But that’s got nothing to do with what I asked.”

“It has everything to do with what you asked, actually.” Tim sighed. Crossed his arms. “Dick loves you…more than a lot of things. And seeing you in any way less than okay…messes with him.”

Damian tilted his head.

“And that even counts emotionally, but we’re just as screwed up as you in that department so I guess that’s easier for him to bear.” Tim rambled. “But physically…with these injuries and stuff…well.”

He paused. Damian waited.

“It used to be bad enough because you were a child, and his partner and his responsibility and yada yada.” Tim explained. “But…then you died.”

Another stop, to let that sink in, for the both of them.

“And you didn’t even die like…a simple way. You died in the most painful, heartbreaking way imaginable, so that made it even worse.” Tim winced, remembering the day himself. Remembering the bottom line, that Damian died protecting Dick, and how well Dick knew that, and hated himself for it. “So…he worries. Every cut, every bruise. He worries about people hurting you, because he loves you. But now on top of that, he worries about losing you all over again. And that’s honestly something I don’t think he could handle. He’d…collapse.”

“…He loves and worries for all of us the same.” Damian offered, embarrassed by Tim’s truths. “I’m not special.”

“No, not special. Just different.” Tim agreed. “I’m his brother. Jason’s his brother. You…are different. You are his brother…but you’re also so much more than that, to him.” Tim shifted in his chair. “Because I mean, he didn’t raise me. He was never my guardian, legal or otherwise. He’s always been just my brother. But you…blurred a few lines.”

Damian didn’t admit that Dick blurred a few lines for him too, but he had a feeling he didn’t need to.

“And then I think it was just one of those ‘you don’t know what you have until it’s gone’ thing.” Tim sniffed. “And with how much death we’ve all dealt with, you think we’d learn by now but…we don’t. Because we’re all dumb. And so I don’t think he realized or knew just how much he loved you, how special you are to him, until after you were murdered and supposedly gone forever.”

Damian lowered his eyes as Tim spoke, glanced out the window.

“So, to answer your question.” Tim inhaled. “Dick’s problem is that he loves you, and he’s petrified of losing you again. His problem is that, right now, he just got a call from his sister saying you’ve been attacked and left for dead, and might be so before the week is out. He’s crumbling under the idea of that.”

“He shouldn’t.” Damian argued. “I am not worth…destroying himself over.”

“He’d disagree.” Then Tim smiled. “And honestly? I think I would too.”

Damian watched him, then after a moment, huffed, crossing his arms. “Thanks for saving me. I guess.”

Tim snorted back, reaching up to ruffle Damian’s hair. “I’ll say you’re welcome when we know you’re in the clear.”

Damian smiled, leaned back in his pillows, watched as Tim picked up his chart again, probably about to do a follow-up to his follow-up, because that was so him.

“Please.” He hummed. “It’ll take a lot more than a slashed aorta to keep me do-”

Without warning, there was a sound in the hall. High-pitched and loud. Then repeated. Then again and again, and then suddenly – multiples of the sound, each one going at its own rhythm, overlapping.

Meows.

And not just any meows. This wasn’t the meow of Alfred, deep and sophisticated and lazy. No, these were…

Dick was suddenly in the doorframe again, looking no less ragged than when he’d left ten minutes ago. There was a large cardboard box in his hands, and Damian realized that the sounds he and Tim heard were coming from that box.

Meows.

…Kitten meows.

Dick came across the room silently and without preamble, carefully tipped the box over the bed, dumping the contents onto Damian’s knees.

Five fat little kittens came rolling out, yelling for all the world to hear. Orange, black, tuxedo, tortie and gray, tumbling around in surprise at their new location.

Damian immediately smiled, reaching out to pet the closest babies. They all immediately spotted him and wanted his attention, climbing up his body on tiny, underused legs, wobbling this way and that.

“One basketful of kittens.” Dick murmured breathlessly. “Just as ordered.”

Damian chuckled lightly as the kittens swarmed him. He kept his smile, even as Dick sat next to him, and threw his arm around his shoulders once more. “…Grayson, I was kidding.”

“…Feel better?” Dick whispered against his temple anyway as he curled his legs up into the bed, tucking Damian back against his side like it was Damian’s home. But then his already quiet voice trembled, and Damian glanced up at Tim as he spoke. “…Please just tell me you to feel better, kiddo.”

Tim just gave Damian a sad smile that said, See?

Damian glanced down at the kittens, their weights not enough to put any pressure on his chest. But he kept his smile as he pet them, as he leaned his head against Dick’s neck and reached up to hold the hand on his shoulder.

“Much better, now that you’ve returned.” Damian promised. A kitten popped up in front of face, and bounced their noses together. Damian laughed, glancing up at Dick. His eyes were tired, with dark circles, and desperate. But he smiled back at Damian in reflex. “And the kittens don’t hurt either.”

Dick laughed and held him a little tighter, kissing a kitten when it reached a paw up to touch his chin.

Damian didn’t mention the shaking of Dick’s fingers. Just as Tim didn’t mention the tear tracks on Dick’s face.

But Damian did glance up at Dick, and watched him for a moment. He squeezed Dick’s hand, while gently petting the smallest feline on his chest. “I’m not going anywhere, Grayson.”

Dick’s eyes darted down to him. “Hm?”

“I won’t leave you.” Damian reiterated. “I promise.”

Dick blinked in surprised, and looked over to Tim for explanation. Tim feigned innocence, shrugging.

“So don’t worry about me.” Damian demanded. “Don’t destroy yourself over me either.”

Dick looked back down with a confused smile. But Damian didn’t elaborate, just clung to Dick’s hand, while petting the cats with the other, and using Dick as his own personal pillow.

After a moment, he shook his head and laughed, pecking Damian’s temple and lingering there for just a bit longer than usual.

He was silent, watching Damian play with their guests, smiling and laughing and even downright cooing. Tim eventually joined them on the bed to see the kittens, and Dick purposefully tickled at his stomach with his toes.

But it was when Damian was slowing down, when the kittens were starting to doze off all along his lap, that Dick kissed Damian’s head again, rubbed at his arm, and whispered a quiet, watery and grateful:

“Thank you.”

#dick grayson #Damian Wayne #Tim Drake

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fanghuas · 4 years

Note

Im glad the duckman idea is enjoyed! Maybe we’ll get a mini series if we petition hard enough! Aannnyyways, would you mind giving 15 small/ odd facts about yourself? Anything qualifies honestly. - Raven 🌙

Can't believe DC is out there changing Tim's codename to Drake, aka a male duck, when they could have been writing about the true Duckman all along. We just. We gotta get this miniseries. Let's get some signatures, let's do this.

As for myself, I am mostly a very boring person, but I will try my best.

1) I was on a swimming team for 10/11 years.

2) I've also briefly done basketball, volleyball, gymnastics and tae kwon do. I was pretty horrible at all of them. I don't know why my parents kept signing me up for other sports when clearly I was good at swimming and pretty much nothing else. Tae kwon do was fun though!

3) My grandmother once drove her car, with me and her inside it, into the sea. We got out easily but, when people jumped in to help us I apparently got a little insulted because 'I knew how to swim.' To have the arrogance of my six year old self again, I swear.

4) I think I've mentioned this before but I can neither sing nor play any instruments, I cannot carry a tune, that however does not stop me from humming loudly and obnoxiously to the point that a song is unrecognizable to annoy my sister.

5) I don't have any favorites. Food, color, number, I just don't know. Every time I've had to name one I just picked something different.

6) I'm half German, I've taken German lessons in the past for at least a couple of years. My mother lives in Germany. I visit routinely. I can't fucking speak German anywhere close to fluently.

7) I have, at different times, started duolingo courses for: French, German, Spanish, Arabic, Russian and Navajo. Spanish is the onlu language I've made any sort of progress with.

8) I have been writing fanfiction since I was eight, technically, if you count my supposed LOTR sequel about the kids of Aragorn and Arwen, Eowyn and Faramir, and another couple that I can't remember. I don't even know what it was about. Somebody got kidnapped. There were too many characters for me to juggle so they just stood in a circle and spoke one line each. I think there was twelve kids in total.

9) I love personality quizzes. Hogwarts house, TV show character, alignment, whatever. Just tell me what I'm like! 'Cause I have no idea!

10) If you follow the sortinghatchats system, I'm a Burned Puff Primary/Claw Primary Model/Slytherin secondary. And that's the only hogwarts sorting that matters and is worth putting on a list of facts about myself. Also, I've also joked that my house was "not Gryffindor" so, you know. I was right!

11) I am starting to suspect that these are way too rambly. We gotta reign it in a bit.

12) I'm in my third and year of uni where I study greek philology.

13) I said before I can't sing, I'd also like to add to that that I can't dance at all. I can follow a little bit when it's something with steps, but if I have to improvise it, I would sooner throw myself out of the nearest window.

14) I've never broken a bone which probably means either that I was really lucky or just an all around boring kid.

15) I'm going to get some heat for this, but it's weighing heavily on me and I have to tell the truth: I like pineapples on pizza.

I'm sorry for ranting for so long, but it was in a misguided attempt to make this interesting. Are those facts?? Are those the ramblings of a madman? Who knows.

#ask #raven's tag #the duckman saga #this is so fucking long rip me #if you read until the end i dont really get why but thanks #akdjajqjw #I hate this #you probably wanted something like #I wear denim on denim I like buzzfeed unsolved #and I just started banging out PARAGRAPHS god why

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rason-rodd · 7 years

Note

Can you write a fic about Jason finding out he has a daughter? Maybe Jason x Reader? IDK, you can spin that however you want.

Sorry it took some time but I was definitely inspired by the idea that I wrote a lot of pages. So this is the first part of the fanfic hoping you’ll like it. I tried to make something a bit different that what I used to read on the same theme.

The Child of The Red Hood/Jason Todd x Reader (PART 1)

He had failed. He had failedeverything. He had failed Gotham. He had failed his friends. He had failed hisfamily. The Red Hood was a failure. Jason Todd was a failure.

Helooked at his red dusty mask between his hand, staring at his own reflection.He was not the handsome young vigilante he used to be. He had salt and pepperhair now and even some crow’s feet in the corner of his blue eyes. Hell, evenhis brown leather jacket looked old and damaged. But most of all he had lost allof his mischief and his signature sarcasm.It made him laugh mirthlessly. Howpathetic he was. Time had definitely fucked him up. Or was it rather thealcohol? or his miserable life? or perhaps a bit of everything?

Heput down the mask on the table nearby when he heard the sound of footstepsbehind him.

“ Todd. Believe it or not I’m gladyou are here” Damian Wayne. He had changed too, but in a good way. Lucky him.He was not the little obnoxious brat anymore. He was a tall man with broadshoulders and an undeniable self-confidence, the spitting image of his father.No wonder people believed Batman was immortal. In that costume, Damian couldfool anyone. Bruce would have been proud.“ I still don’t get why I’m here though.” “ You know Grayson. He’s never been good at making plans but he wouldn’t havecalled you with no reason.”“ And I do have a reason.” A weirdlycroaky voice said in the back.

Jason’seyes widened when he saw the man he used to envy back in the days he was young andreckless. Dick Grayson. What had happened to him? Condemned to spend his lastdays in a wheel chair with an amputated leg and the memories of the good old timeswhen he was still able to jump from rooftops. Time had screwed Jason up but thebattle had made Dick lose his wings. Nightwing was no more. But he was stillfighting and this is why Jason thought he was still better than him.

Andhe still had people by his side contrary to him.

Jasonglanced at you. You were accompanying Dick; a beautiful young lady, probably in her early twenties, withlong [Y/HC] hair tied in a silk ponytail. You were wearing a black, red and yellow costume with a bird symbol on the chest. The similarity with Nightwing’s costumewas striking and that is why Jason immediately assumed you were Flamebird, thegirl Dick had taken under his wing few years ago. He had heard a lot of rumoursabout you. Apparently you were not the kind of girl that tends to do things byhalf.You went to stand by Damian whileDick approached a table placed in the middle of the room. The new Batmanglanced at you with a smile. A smily Damian? That was new.

Ahologram of Gotham appeared on the table.“ Luke sent me information concerningthe Kanes’ new project. Apparently they released their robotic soldiers inGotham’s underground to flush us out.” “ How could they find us? Drake conceived this hideout so that no one couldenter without prior authorisation.” “ I guess they somehow found a breach when they tortured Tim to death. They aimto blow us all with a bomb” “ So what’s the plan. We leave?” “ We could but the explosion will make the underground foundations collapse andArkham Asylum along with them.” The mention of a potential explosion made Jason shiver. “Thebomb is remote controlled from Wayne Tower according to Luke. I need a team toinfiltrate the tower and hacked the system to prevent the explosion.” “ That doesn’t explain why I’m here.” Jason said a bit annoyed. You glared athim, definitely not happy to have him here. “ That should reassure you. Perhapsyou won’t be needed after all.” “[Y/N]” Dick sighed. “What? I don’t see why we would need this coward.” “ A coward?” Jason was offended. “Listen to me, little girl. I was doing this jobway before you were born and I lost so many things, so many people I loved todo it. You can tell me I failed them all but don’t you ever call me a cowardagain.” You remained still and stern, definitely not affected at all by hiswords or ready to give him right.“ Tim died. So did Bruce and Barbara. Dick lost his leg and God knows what happened to Stephanie. Butyou, you left the fight, you abandoned us. If that’s not being a coward, whatis it? You don’t deserve to be among us.”“ All right that’s enough” Dickyelled. He immediately coughed and started hyperventilated. You ran towards himto give him his Ventolin. “I’m sorry.” Dick patted your shoulder and kissed yourforehead tenderly. “It’s okay [Y/N]. Damian can you keep going?” “ Sure. I’ll lead the infiltration with Cassandra. I know the place by heart.We should be able to defuse the bomb and handle both Colonel Kane and Kate.[Y/N] and Todd you’ll stay here to repel the enemy and prevent them fromsetting the bomb.”

You groaned discreetly not likingthis plan. “Why can’t I come with you?” You asked disappointed and bit offended not to be part of the biggest part of the mission. Jason raised an eyebrow. Okay youdidn’t like him but that didn��t mean you had to be so despicable. “ I’d rather want you here.” Damian said grabbing you by the hands and staringat you right in the eye. Talking about proximity. “Fine.” “ I didn’t say I agreed to do it.” Jason said. You had this defying look thateveryone noticed though you decided to remain silent by respect for Dick. Hewas like the father you never had. He had taken you in when you were still aninfant, raised you and taught you everything.“ Jason,you’re the only one I trust that can do this. If there had been someone elsethen I would not have bothered you.” “ Pretty sure I can handle the A.I robots on my own.” “ Oh really little bird. How?” “ I can fight. I don’t need some old outlaw with two guns to back me up.” “ You mean you’re the one who’s gonna back me up, kiddo”“ We’ll see that, old man” You said before leaving the room with a defying andsatisfied smile.

When youleft, Jason frowned a bit dubious. “Did I just accidentally accepted just toshut that little girl’s mouth?” “ I believe you did, Todd.” Damian said. “ But don’t worry [Y/N] often tend tomake everyone do that.” And he left with a smile that let Jason a bitsceptical. “ I’m glad you’re in and I’m sure [Y/N] is too.”“ I doubtit. That kid despises me.” “ Just give her a chance. She might surprise you.” Jason stayed silent for ashort while. Bruce had told him the same thing: Give people a chance. Theymight surprise you. That’s how he ended up being a member of a family again. “ She got spunk. You’ve got to admit it.”“ Yes it’s even surprising for someone who’s your sidekick.” “ She inherited it from her father. The power of the genes.”“ … doesn’t always do people good.” It made Dick chuckle. “What?” Jason asked. “ Doesn’t she remind you of someone?”

Yes, youreminded him of someone. You reminded him of him, when he was playing sidekick onrooftops with the big bad bat: same youth, same boldness, same problematictemper. His beloved wife had told him when she was pregnant that their daughterwould be just like that too, that she could feel it in the way she was kickingin the womb. “We’ll have to manage.” He had joked. Though he never got thechange to manage, as they were both taken away from him in a tragic explosion.After that,he just threw the towel and packed up his red hood in a box.And today, he had it back in his hands and had just agreed to wear it again becauseof an insolent little brat. What the hell?

(PART2)

#jason todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #dick grayson #nightwing #damian wayne #robin #batman #fanfic

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ao3feed-brucewayne · 2 years

Text

One mansion in Gotham is home to so much drama

by LittleWheel

Words: 2860, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Teen Titans - All Media Types, Teen Titans (Animated Series), Batman (Comics)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M, Multi

Relationships: Garfield Logan/Raven, Raven/Jason Todd, Dick Grayson/Koriand'r, Jinx/Victor Stone, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/40607631

#IFTTT #bruce wayne #batman #the dark knight #the cape crusader #gotham #dc universe #ao3 #ao3feed

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crypterion-moon · 5 years

Text

Tiamat: Rise in Shadow

“Something so broken can never be fixed, it can only become soomething else”

Tim Drake is dead, and in the ashes of the boy that was once Robin, Red Robin and a Wayne, a new entity arises. Tiamareshka, Inferno of God, Dark Angel of Death among the Hyeshath, the dark, shadowy people that walk through worlds in search of the guilty, the vulnerable and the dying. It feels like an eternity since he came to be but the nightmares of a dead boy still haunt him and his sympathy for man wanes.

But a change is coming, a new world puts him in with the heroes again, and Jason, the last Bat left finally catches up.

A/N: Dark, Angst, Gore, Explicit, Supernatural Element, Witchcraft, Swearing, Slow burn, Multiple crossovers

Movement beside him, the bed suddenly bereft of a presence shifted Tim awake. Far too early for his taste. He cracked open one lazy eye and saw the light seeping through. He promptly shut it again. Any point in the day was too early for Tim, he had never claimed to be a morning person. Unluckily, the person next to him was and work was very important for humans in this society. The sounds of pants, shirts being pulled on, belt buckles being done and a clear thud of the hone on the dresser reached his ears, it felt refreshing to hear such domestic sounds. To not work and earn your living is a failure in the eyes of your mother and father, to not contribute to society is to be a burden. Nothing to do with Tim though, he planned to laze around in the stranger's bed for while longer. At least until night falls again. He rolled over on his side, his arms curled up at his chest and facing the wall, he muttered something unintelligible, which comes out in a soft groan. The bed dipped again, this time Tim could feel lips trailing and kissing their way down his body, from his curled shoulder along each rib, the blanket that covered the lower half of his body was lifted as the man planted a few soft, lingering pecks on his hip.

“Morning beautiful.”

Tim let out a soft moan, just to tease, “Mmmm, don't you have work today?”

“I wish I didn't.”

Tim smirked, his body curled up slightly more, raising his hips slightly higher for some more kisses which his partner for the night happily obliged, his hands stroking along his legs and slipping in between Tim's pale thighs.

“Will I see you again sometime?”

Tim hummed with approval, “Same place after dark.”

“Okay,” the man grinned nibbling playfully at Tim's ear, “I'll see you soon.”

Tim listened to the rustling of clothes, and the closet. He heard the man leave the room and pick up his keys for the bowl in the hallway, and the door clicked shut. He thought about letting himself turn a bit, just some black smoke so he could return without having to physically get up and walk, his body ached deliciously though. Last night was fun and satisfying in one go, though the man was far too tender for his comfort. The idea was that it would just be a once off, non-committal thing where the two of them could have fun but it seemed more like this guy was looking for something more but wasn't aware of it. Tim wriggled about under the covers and took in the scent that clung to the bedsheets, the scent of another human was so addictive. Such a sweet man but rather desperate and lonely, it would be a shame to kill him, even by accident.

The smell and presence of humans, was almost too much in the small space that was this seedy club, and Tim loved it. He could taste the energy flowing and permeating the air. His hunting place, his one stop for a bit of fun and food. The hip-hop trance mix that pulsed around the club was a bit on the obnoxious side but not totally intolerable, the laser light that swirled around the floor was quite irritating so he'd settled himself on the other end of the place where a warm light filled the bar and lounge area still in view of the dancefloor. If it wasn't such a popular place with good choices, he wouldn't even bother coming here. Sitting at the bar, Tim glanced over each face, searching for an acceptable companion for the night. As his eyes scoured over each face, they would sometimes meet with another and often, they would stare and blush. Unable to tear their eyes away, Tim could send them the most devilish look and they'd quickly hide or look away in embarrassment. He'd know when they looked back at him when they thought he'd turned his gaze. People were so easily tempted even when he wasn't trying. Look in their direction in a certain way and it's hook, line and sinker. It was so much fun fooling around with them, especially the dumb ones but only a few were worthwhile. And tonight, the pretty lady in with the shiny jacket should make a nice meal.

Turns out she was quite well off, her apartment was well decorated and nothing displayed seemed to be on the fake or cheap side. A few glances around and it was apparent that she was actually a finance worker of a company, and not a very honest one at that, but at that moment, Tim really couldn't care less. She was healthy, energetic and indeed very full of life...as well as herself. Stupid woman, vain and overestimating, her body screamed for attention, for men to worship her because she deserved it. She'd put down and humiliated a lot of people for her own gain. Tim had avoid looking any further or he'd be turned off by such a rotten soul. For now, he was hungry. One wild night proved fun though it left the woman almost completely drained but he always made sure not to let that happen, Tim was careful about that. The consequences weren't pretty. What he wasn't prepared for was the woman talking and making noises in her sleep, which irritated Tim from sleeping that he had to leave the apartment complex. He slipped out through the window, leathery wings unfurling and soared noiselessly up towards the sky. Tendrils of black wispy smoke slithered out from beneath his skin and around his body, solidifying and materializing as clothing, conveniently. He smirked and he continued to soar over the city before settling on one of the buildings that had a nice domed tower to it, perfect for a resting place. It was annoying having to leave so soon. At least it was a beautiful moon night. His breath ghosted in the chill air which blew softly across his skin as Tim laid down on the metal. He stared up at the and watched the city moving and breathing angrily down below, Gotham was always such a miserable place. The embodiment of filth, probably no better than the city of Sodom though that may be exaggerating. It had a protector after all. He wasn't sure if it was the city that made Batman that grim icon or the other way around. Perhaps it was that vicious cycle. Tim could remember the way Bruce moved, silent and imposing, promptly followed by a young boy in yellow, green and red, laughing at the world. With no pants. Tim smiled wryly. Thinking of Batman and Robin brought back so many memories, the good and bad, they both made his heart ache, what's left of it any way. He turned over and tucked his wing against himself. He'll sleep them away, just for a little while before he moves on.

There's blood on his hands, on his face, in his mouth. Red all around him, pooling at his feet. But he isn't looking, it's his hands he can't tear his eyes away from. Tim's hand, didn't look like a human's any more. The fingers were long and protruding from them were long black claws and they were all red, saturated in warm liquid. It comforted him and horrified him at the same time, like coming out of a high. Not his blood, he looked up. Across from him were corpses, the dead, cooling bodies of his friends, the league and Dick?! Bruce!! Damian...oh god oh god, who did this? He looked around and saw no one, no one else but him and...Jason. But the man wasn't wearing a mad deranged smile like he remembered once, it was a look of horror and pure fear. His hands were clean. Why was Jason looking at him like that? Suddenly, the Red Hood turned away and walked, Tim tried to get up and follow but he was stuck, unable to move. He called out to Jason.

“You monster.”

Tim woke up to the cool air rapidly warming as the sun rose up over the cityline. Damn, he didn't think he'd sleep the whole night away, it was dawn and he wasn't prepared to take on the full glare of the sun. He was lucky he didn't run into the bat, or the bird for that matter. That would be beyond awkward. He slinked away under the cover of the sun's shadow. He settled down again in his favourite spot, fatigue taking over again. He cursed internally at that damn dream, it always deprived him of rest no matter how long he tried to sleep. He suspected the longer he was in it, the worse it would make him feel and right now, he felt like he hadn't slept in three days. It reminded him so much of his sleepless vigilante days it was almost funny, almost.

“Tiamat.”

A voice whispered to him where he hid, sheltered from the sights of passers-by, high behind the golems of Gotham. Tim stirred from his curled sleep, listening to the multitudes of voices hissing and sighing inaudibly in the background. The space before him twisted and warped with dark energy. Then a figure stepped out from the swirling mass and onto the stone. Greeting Tim with a wide, crooked smile.

“Peter.” The boy responded with a half giggle, his coal black, tight suit rippled with his body.

“Still fooling around? I know you were overly serious before but this takes the cake.”

Tim snorted with contempt, he almost wished he'd ignored the sly bastard but he wasn't bothered with moving. Instead he let his tail answer for him, swatting at Peter with an impatient flick. Of course, it did nothing since he was only a mirage and it passed through his wispy form like it was just smoke, distorting Peter's image only briefly before it settled back in place.

“Someone's moody today.”

“Did you call just to annoy me?”

Peter sat down beside a curled up Tim and reached over, brushing stray strands of hair from his face. As much of an illusion as it was, the boy still felt very real and right there, though his touch felt more like breaths than anything physical.

“You've been seeking out human comfort frequently as of late, have the nightmares returned?”

“...They have always been there, sometimes they're not as bad but then they get louder, clearer, like I'm living it all over again. It happened again last night, when I left early.”

Peter said nothing for a long time, the sound of their breaths drowned out in the city's hum. Tim considered sleeping right here while he could feel Peter's presence. He could ask him to stay for a while while he rested but seeing as he wasn't truly here in the flesh, no doubt he was occupied. It pained Tim to acknowledge how much he needed contact, companionship to chase those damn nightmares away. He felt weak and helpless against himself, he could feel that part of him mocking at him for such dependency, letting it slowly eat him away. It was all his fault of course, your fault your failure murderer murderer demon monster, Jason can't even look at you now, not even Alfred. Tim gasped in shock, clutching at his breast in pain. Peter still at his side reacted accordingly prying Tim's fingers from his chest and holding them.

“Stop, don't let it get to you again. Come on, Tim, stay with me.” Can't here, can't see, only the thing inside trying to claw it's way back out, take over again. Your fault their fault unwanted, they abandoned you, it's only natural to make them pay, make you pay, watch the world burn, let's do it.

Look what they did to you.

“Look at me!”

Tim was gasping for air, suddenly seeing Peter again. He wasn't aware of the tears in his eyes. All that act, all those disgusting nights with endless streams of face, voices, praises but he wasn't beautiful. He was damned. Trying to claw his way out of hell.

Peter looked at him with eyes that mirrored his, his suffering, Tim's own pain, they all had suffered, had to so they could be together this way, but he, she told him he wasn't ready yet. When?

Peter leaned down and placed a tender kiss on his lips, breathing for a minute, “Something is coming your way, Tim, and it's nearly your time.”

Tim sat up legs bent behind him as he searched for meaning behind those words, Peter's rust coloured eyes gave nothing away, “I don't understand.”

“Thing's are going to change.”

Tim dipped his gaze, completely losing the mask and being that confused, over-analysing boy he once was, serious and curious all at once. Robin, not Robin. Peter smiled a little sad smile and began to fade from sight, his ghost hands still caressing Tim's face, “I hope for the better,” Tim said.

“We all do.”

Tim's head was ringing, and it was damn annoying as well as slightly painful. It took a whole lot of effort and will to just open his eyes with his whole body screaming at him for the abuse. Not the first time, he told himself, had worse happen to him on Batman's watch. And then he realized there was a possibility he wasn't alone. His eyes shot open and he lifted his head enough to give the surrounding area a quick scan around before dropping back to the ground, face first of course. He felt as if he got kicked in the head by a horse, which was a close enough comparison given how hard he was hit. Fortunately it seemed like the Blight Hounds didn't seem to make it through or were dropped off elsewhere, hopefully somewhere far away, like a different dimension. He was about to seduce and kill a young man who would later become a gang leader as he'd been told by Oriviane, one of the oracles. Though it had nothing to do with Tim or the wraiths what his destiny would have been, his name was listed. He would die sooner or later. It would have just been another night of ending someone's life with pleasure until they were suddenly ambushed by those damned monsters. Ambushes weren't all that unusual though it served to be a pain in the ass having to kill his targets before they ran off. Tim was always prepared for these moments and it wouldn't have been a problem if his psyche as well as his powers didn't decide to fluctuate right at that moment. It earned him a swat to the face from one of their malformed paws, and they were strong, if not smart.

“Damn, I hope they didn't scratch me,” Tim grunted, as his fingers came away wet with blood.

He glanced at his surroundings, a thick but not unruly gathering of trees blocked much of Tim's field of vision like a forest, preventing him from seeing too much farther, but he could hear a the low drone of activity, human activity just beyond the edge of the spot where he stood. Tim followed the sounds, noting how oddly neat these trees were spaced almost as if...he reached the end to find wide open spaces filled with people either picnicking, strolling or playing, and beyond that was a city. Its buildings jutting up unpleasantly over the foliage. His portal navigation had landed him in the middle of a park in god knows where, again. In fairness, it was a stressful moment, trying to open up a door while fending of mutant mutts and no doubt, they must've been scattered over other realms. He really needed to get the hang of this before it sent him into somewhere much more unpleasant.

Strangely, as he kept passing through the thick growth of trees he could hear the sounds of civilization cars and voices, not too far away and as it turned out, he’d reached the edge of what turned out to be a reserved patch of forest. Now he was staring from under the shade, normal civilians passing by going about their business. At least he was sure he wasn’t on some god-forsaken hell. He was about to move forward when a sudden explosion erupted about fifty meters away. He flinched back into the cover and watched intently. Through the throngs of screaming people, a figure emerged from the wreckage, large and imposing and an awfully familiar at that. It was Bane. Still duped up on Venom.

“Come out you spineless cowards, come out and face Bane!”

Good lord he was obnoxious as ever. Watching him thrash about like a child throwing a tantrum was almost comical. He took out a substantial chunk of the cement ground throwing it about, thankfully most of the crowds had retreated but he was posing a serious threat to bystanders. For now, it seemed that the only damage he was intent on doing was to the surrounding inanimate objects, smashing to be exact, unimpressive really. Then the drugged up criminal fixes his gaze on some unfortunate man on his way to work. Tim grinned. Perfect, he had some stress to work off. Just when he had taken a step out, suddenly Bane was ambushed. Teenagers sporting colourful sets of powers and abilities. One of them, a green skinned boy morphed into a bull charging Bane relentlessly and recklessly. A young blond woman with a bow joined in, notching and releasing arrows effortlessly with near perfect aim. The flashy one dashed in to deliver a series of, flimsy punches. When it comes to Bane, nothing short of a strong punch will affect him, but somehow, Tim could feel that was merely to add to the distraction, just as predictable in his technique as always, no matter what version of him was out there. Smart but predictable. Now he could never understand why Bruce found him challenging Tim stopped, his gaze snapping aside. Something bigger was coming his way.

As soon as the thought passed, a large black and blue jean mass came flying in, crashing into Bane with a loud thump and crack that definitely was the sound of a few broken bones. The villain was sent flying back from the impact while the recent addition to the fray watched with a triumphant expression, back straight, floating in the air with the symbol on his chest on display. A Super. The sight of the S brought memories, slamming back into Tim.

“Hey Broody.”

Kon smiling as he hovered over him making terrible jokes about his height, his personality being not as colourful as his costume. Fighting together with their teammates against extraterrestrial terrorists.

“You know he doesn’t mean that.”

Kon comforting him over his arguments and fights with Bruce and Jason. Hearing Kon’s voice beg him to come home again and again until he couldn’t hear him any more. And when he finally opened his eyes, he was holding Kon’s head in his bloody hands. Tim doubled over gagging, holding himself steady grasping a thorny vine that grew along the trunk of the tree, his hand so tight around it the thorns pierced skin and blood ran down his palm and the vine.

“Damn it, not now, keep it together...” he fought to keep the memories suppressed. Just then a giant crash spooked him out of the lapse and he looked up in time to see a huge Gorilla in a stupid hat flattening down everything In its way, with a machine gun to match. Following behind were what looked like a few hired goons, of course, why not. Bane always made sure to be stocked up on henchmen and backup. This was however turning into a bit of a joke and Tim was getting bored of watching.

“Robin!” A slight figure leaped out of nowhere at the command, unleashing a whole arsenal of batarangs and smoke pellets. The flying pieces of metal successfully took down a portion of the goons while the pellets burst, enveloping the area in thick smoke. No one can see through it accept for Superboy but they had definitely planned this enough not to require visibility. Tim’s suspicions were confirmed when the green shapeshifter charged right into the smoke, audibly knocking out more of the hired guns, both Robin and the archer jointly disabled the remaining men caught in the smoke. Bane could be heard roaring over the commotion, Gorilla sniffed and grunted. Suddenly, Superboy and a girl with a familiar symbol dived in, tackling the two. The team’s hard hitters best suited for tanks like Bane and the Gorilla. Tim guessed they must be this world’s Teen Titans, which meant he had to be careful who he came in contact with. After a whole load of punching and kicking, the two villains were finally down, disappointingly enough, how boring. They began discussing something together possibly about whatever mission they were on while the blond with the lasso and the speedster began tying everyone up. Just then the farthest man lying just a meter of where Tim was hiding got up and started sprinting off into the woods. Tim watched the man as he made his escape into the darkness, soon noticed to be by the teens, his lips stretched into a sinister grin. He sat back on his haunches, preparing for the chase.

“Let the hunt begin.”

“We have a runner,” Nightwing sounded slightly fed up, his tone coloured with annoyance as he watched the last of Bane’s hired gun run of to the woods. No one could blame him, since it’s been a long day and no doubt, going to be a long night for him in Bludhaven, the wicked never sleep. So the team started off after him as the heavy hands came to take the criminals away for locking up. Kid Flash was definitely the fastest but not the brightest, and in an environment like a forest, odds were that he’d trip up or spend the whole day searching high and low for the man, so it was a good thing he wasn’t here or he’d run off not knowing where he was going or running into. Beast Boy had the right idea though, as a hound, he had the escaper’s scent. So they followed him into the thick growth. Finding him was actually harder than they thought, he had no tracker so all they could really rely upon was Superboy’s senses and Beast Boy’s ability to track as an animal, even then Connor couldn’t see past all the trees with his vision and Garfield lost his scent a few times.

“He must be in the deepest part of the forest by now,” Artemis said.

“Keep searching, if he’s going back to base this could mean finding the ones responsible for the meta-trafficking,” Nightwing ordered.

“He could be headed towards the docks, it’s the quickest and closest way out,” Robin said, it made sense and Nightwing agreed, it was the only other place that anyone could find a way to get off the island. As they got nearer to the docks, Superboy stopped all of a sudden, his teammates stopped as well.

“Superboy, what’s wrong, is-” Wondergirl began to say when he shushed her, his ears picking up whimpers and sobs and some frantic words that were to muffled for him to hear properly. But he could tell which direction.

“Over there,” he said, facing in the direction of the sound just off to the side to where the docks were, .

They followed Conner to what looked like the deepest part of the forest when he faltered and bent over looking shaken.

“What’s wrong,” Nightwing asked, checking him over with concern.

“Someone screamed and it wasn’t any scream, I mean a real scream,” Connor looked up and around, panicked, “I can’t hear him anymore.”

With this disturbing reveal, Nightwing and Robin both took off in that direction, with the others following after Superboy had recovered. Beast Boy was in the lead again, with the scent strong this time and they ventured on before Garfield started yelping, then, the smell hit them hard, the smell of blood and urine.

“Oh my god,” Artemis let out a hoarse whisper.

Everyone stopped, their mouths hanging open in shock. The corpse lying before them was definitely their runner, but he wasn’t going to be answering questions or going anywhere but the morgue. His limbs stuck out at odd angles like he was flailing about so much they were arranged haphazardly, his uniform was ripped open and so was his throat. The chest area bore several gashes. Right arm ripped off and legs punctured. He looked like he’d been mauled by a savage animal except, no animal can make such clean cuts as the ones on his chest, the claws must have been thin, needle like. His mouth hung agape with terror and he must have been scared enough to wet himself with the darkened patch on his pants mixing with the blood that was now seeping in, staining the grey a darker shade.

“Wha- who could have done this?!” Cassie gasped. Nightwing took a tentative step forward, he’d seen bad things in Gotham but never something like this here. Something had made it’s way on the island. He looked back to see Robin had also followed his movement but he seemed to be on the verge of getting sick, he was too young to witness something like this. Nightwing didn’t want to baby him. Working as Robin alongside Batman meant being in the middle of things like this but still...he glanced back at the body. This was too horrible.

“You guys, go back to HQ, call Batman, tell him we’ve got an issue, possibly something worse than the crisis at hand,” he ordered the rest of the team, “Robin, look at me, I know it’s going to be hard but go back with them, take the rest of the day off.”

“But I-.”

“Listen to me, Tim, I’m not putting you off missions because I think you’re not up for it, but I’ve had something like this happen before and it isn’t something you can just shake off, take it from a guy who tried winging it,” Dick gave him a wry smile, “Go home you earned it.”

“Can’t I just stay at HQ, keep me in the loop?”

Both Nightwing and Robin looked at the tattered remains, “I don’t think it’s exactly safe there right now.”

A/N: I’m mostly caught up on Ao3 if you want to read the rest without waiting for me to post it up on tumblr it’s here - https://archiveofourown.org/works/13341468/chapters/30542415

#tim drake #jason todd #young justice #my ocs #hyeshath AU #dark #this is really dark #crossover

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