#If dc never touched Robin Jason again it would be too soon but also I want a 30 issue run minimum 🧍🏾‍♀️

[kittykatninja321]

The heart wants a modern Robin Jason run but the mind knows better

#If dc never touched Robin Jason again it would be too soon but also I want a 30 issue run minimum 🧍🏾‍♀️ #The version that exists in my mind palace will have to sustain me #Jason Todd #dc

[stxleslyds]

I didn't realize how often I thought about this fandom until I started churning out asks on a daily basis.

Knowing DC's creative trends/talent in 1988/89, what do you think would have happened if fans voted for Jason's survival? From released alternative comic pages, Jason still gets blown up but survives.

Do you think they had a plan for him to become Hush (like the Death in the Family interactive "movie" implies)? Would he get a personality change through amnesia? Or would the comics have retired him to fade into obscurity?

WHAT IF…? BUT JASON TODD SURVIVES.

Hi friend! Thank you for the ask! This should be interesting.

But before I give my answer, let’s take a look at those pages where Jason had actually survived Joker’s attack.

From the second page we only can see one panel but some who have seen the entire, unreleased, page have said this about it:

“The full page reveals more, including the arrival of Dick Grayson to Jason’s hospital room, although a pencilled note in the margins says to strike him, and redraw the panels in favour of having Alfred in the scene instead. Dick rushed over as soon as he heard, and offered Bruce his help in tracking down the Joker.

In the published version of Batman #428, the same page depicts Jason’s funeral, where Alfred asks Bruce if he should get in touch with Dick Grayson. In both pages, Batman says roughly the same thing: “I’ll handle this by myself. No help from now on... that’s the way I want it.””

This makes me feel like Jason having survived or not the Joker’s attack would have resulted in the same outcome within Bruce. Dick shows up at the hospital to check on Jason and offers his help in tracking Joker to Bruce but Bruce doesn’t want his help because from that moment on “he works alone”.

That would lead to the same exact actions that happened with Jason dead. Bruce goes after Joker on his own and leaves up to fate if he dies or not (although he said that his issues with Joker never truly end, Batman (1940) #429),

And if Bruce pushes Dick away then we could also be having a scene like the one from The New Titans (1988) #55, where Bruce implies that Jason getting hurt was Dick’s fault for having moved on from Robin himself. If that happens then Dick would blame Bruce for putting Jason in danger way too soon and their fight will end up with Bruce kicking Dick out of the manor.

-

So, to answer your question, what would have happened if fans voted for Jason’s survival?

I think that DC would have turned Jason into another reason why Bruce thinks that all he could ever be is Batman. It would have made Bruce dark, moody and sad just like DC wanted, all darkness and no light.

Jason wouldn’t be dead but he wouldn’t be truly alive and they would use that to fuel the angst that surrounds Batman.

It is a very sad thing, but I actually think that Jason surviving the attack wouldn’t have had any impact on his own story, Jason’s suffering/death were set up to make Batman want to work alone again. I just don’t see DC back in the day working on Jason’s recovery (physical and mental), I see them leaving Jason comatose and as a reminder of one of Batman’s “failures”. Maybe in a distant future Jason could have woken up with amnesia and they could have done something with him then but I really don’t know how they could make that story work or if Jason would end up working as an ally or enemy of Batman.

Much like you said in the ask, I think that DC would have let the character of Jason Todd fade away,

-

Because that is a really sad answer, I decided to come up with other scenarios where I would give ideas of what I would have liked to see DC do, and what I would have done if I had existed back in the day!

What I would have liked to see DC do:

After setting the fact that Jason was left in a coma at the hospital after Joker’s attack, I think DC should have had Bruce making some extreme decisions. With Jason alive but not really there I think that DC could have made work a plot point that they tried to pull off with Jason dead.

In a comic event called ‘Underworld Unleashed’ the demon Neron offered bringing Jason back to life if Bruce gave him his soul in exchange. But with Jason alive I think that Bruce would have actually been even more tempted to take the offer if it meant that by giving his soul away, he could wake Jason up from the coma he was in. Then there could have been an event with magic users that made it possible so Bruce got his soul back or something. DC could have also had Jason have amnesia after Neron wakes him up so we would have a soulless Batman and amnesiac Jason trying to make their father/son relationship work (or not).

Another idea is Bruce making a different extreme decision where he asks Talia to help him find a Lazarus Pit to try his luck with Jason. Because Jason was in a coma and not dead the Pit would have actually worked (the Lazarus Pit cannot bring people back from the dead!). I imagine that if it worked then Bruce would owe Talia or Ra’s a favour, and that could make an interesting story, mostly if Jason Todd ends up mad at Bruce because he didn’t kill the Joker after he tried to kill him. (I do love chaos).

Maybe Jason could even join the LoA to make Bruce’s life difficult. He wouldn’t become the Red Hood but Jason becoming an assassin after all that could have been the perfect recipe for complete chaos and I love that. I think DC could make it work, this last part of the idea is kinda inspired by Young Justice's Jason Todd.

What I would have done if I wrote for DC at the time:

I would have taken Jason away from Bruce! I would have Dick appear out of nowhere and I would have him take Jason with him back to the Titans Tower so they can both be far away from Bruce (at least for a little while).

If this idea sounds familiar it might be because you read another “What if…?” post that I made about what I thought would happen if Jason hadn’t been found by Batman that night when Jason was stealing the Batmobile’s tires. I will link that post here!

This time Dick would obviously be taking Jason with him at a different time and he would actually try to train Jason a little bit more but Dick would also have Jason work on his trauma and then Jason would decide to leave the vigilante/hero life behind. But not completely because I still believe that Jason would still want to save people. He would also be very protective of his brother/best friend Dick Grayson, also known as Nightwing.

I just think that Dick could have handled the situation a lot better than Bruce, he would have made sure that Jason felt like him not being Robin anymore wasn’t because he was a failure but because he can help people in other ways. He would have made him go to therapy and would have been more willing to share his own experiences with him.

I would have Jason studying to become a paramedic again (a different kind of hero) and this time he could also practice on the Titans when they got hurt in battle, if he did that then he could end up being an excellent medic for all superheroes!

I mean, in the Titans there are humans, aliens, metas, amazons and atlanteans. Jason could actually become DC’s very own version of Marvel’s ‘Night Nurse’. I don’t know, I love that idea and I think @hood-ex would like it too!

I just love the idea of Jason and Dick becoming each other's family. The Titans would also become Jason's family but he would be very protective of Dick. I just feel like Jason would have seen the whole thing (of Dick taking him to live together) as a fresh start after such a horrible experience.

I love Red Hood but I also love the idea of Jason becoming something completely different from that and this is one of my favourite ideas!

-

Oh! Before I forget, I think that the idea of Jason becoming Hush in the ‘Death in the Family’ movie comes directly from the fact that Jason “was” Hush for a second in the Batman: Hush comic. That was revealed to us in UtRH, Jason gave the real Hush all the information that he needed to get under Batman’s skin. And then when “Hush” captured Tim and he showed his face that was actually Jason who then changed places with Clayface to confuse Bruce more.

So, yeah, I don’t think DC had planned on making Jason become Hush.

Thank you so much for the ask! I hope the answer was good and that you have a fantastic week!

#jason todd #robin jason todd #dick grayson #nightwing #titans #tati thinks out loud #dc comics #tati loves aus #asksss

[captainshazamerica]

The redhood nightwing fight scenes look like they're gonna be dope af like thats all I'm thinking about how awesome the fight scenes are (hopefully) gonna be (I'm already finding it difficult to see this jason as redhood cuz he's like literally a child but I dunno what age he redhooded in the comics so??)

I had no idea tim was even gonna be in it !?! Can I please get some kind of recognition from the batboys that they actually view each other as brothers and family! 😢

Someone needs to kill the joker It'd be kinda interesting if old bruce killed joker and it'd be nice if that was the last thing he did as batman buuuttt then again it'd be a nice touch if dick killed joker for jason, it would personally be disappointing if joker was just let live not gonna lie i really want bruce to kill him and that be the reason he gives up being batman because he failed to protect jason and then he broke his no killing thing so he just hangs up the cape

we are getting FEAR TOXIN yassssss cue awesome nightmare ish fearscapes (no idea if that's an actual word but that's what I call when you get to see everyone's fear hallucination)

Kory I love you, I do ship dickkory however I feel like she's too good for dick and should marry me instead lol I wanna see how donna is still alive? and I know there's people who are like ughh hank dawn go away already but I really freakin like hank and dawn as characters even though their suits are ridiculous did they break up last season I can't remember? Hank needs a break poor man someone give him a blanket and a hug and let him sit the fuck down everybody leave hank alone

That line where babs is like don't try be your father and dick is like excuse me what you saying there Commissioner Gordon, that will never not be funny 😅😅😅

I ain't in love with this show it has so much potential it could be so lit but I do like it anndd they got suits now whoop!

Wait is this my previous Titans anon? (The one where we ranted about Jason, or the one thinking they hadn’t seen S2 but went to watch it and realized they had? Or are you the same person? xD )And if so are you the same one who asked for the comic and fic recs? Just wondering in terms of if I’m talking to one person or not hahaha

But ahh I got so excited when I saw I got an ask about this 😍

Omg the nightwing red hood fight already got me so stressed lol. It looks great but ahh angst! But I think Jason is like 19ish in most versions when he comes back? Though tbh I forgot what age Jason is in this , I’ll have to see when i rewatch it soon. Curran, the actor, is actually 23, he just looks super young/short. He got pretty buff though. But yeah, that is an unfortunate thing wi the them rushing it already but also, I’d rather have it like this than if they were gonna spread it out through the seasons then it gets cancelled or something (poor Gotham s5, RIP). I think he was the PERFECT robin jason Todd though. Like I love his acting and portrayal of Jason(“Titans are back bitches!” classic Jason), he just is young looking and short. Gosh I still wanna know if they are going with the Lazarus pit for Jason or not! But like that also begs the question of whether they are doing a time skip cause normally Jason is dead for like 2-3ish years, but it doesn’t look like it from the trailer.

And yes, I’ve been looking forwards to Tim!!! While the trailer didn’t show it, the actor was on set a lot over these last couple of months (I’ve been keeping up with their instagrams xD) and seemed super close with the cast! I can’t believe the first look we got if Tim was him nearly crying, though that look already won me over, I love him and he is my son now. But RIGHT! That’s all I want, is the bat bros platonic love, gosh dang it😭 that’s all we want DC😭

BRO! OLD MAN BRUCE KILLING JOKER WOULD BE FREAKING PERFECT. Dang it! Now I’m gonna be so disappointed if that doesn’t happen 🤣gosh it would be perfect, and normally I would be like it’s Bruce, they would never do that, BUT, this show does that kind of “edgy” stuff anyway so if it’s ever gonna happen(without the Batman who Laughs plot line happening(which would make a perfect dc animated movie btw)), it would happen in this show, especially with what was shown in the trailer with him giving Batman up. Man, now my hopes are up for that xD though I wouldn’t mind if Dick killed him. I would be shocked though if they had the balls to actually kill off joker though, dc seems to refuse to do that :/

Omg I squealed at the scarecrow part omg. Dr freaking Crane is a big reason I spiraled down this entire fandom tbh. Like literally a year ago I got obsessed with him for some reason and that led into the Bat hole where I am currently WAY deeper than I ever would have thought 😂 and while I’m not hyper fixated on him anymore, I still love him so much and is my 2nd fav rogue, and it mainly started with Jonathan 🥺 we barely even see his face and I am already in love with the casting, the voice is perfect. And I LOVE when villains have to help the heroes, that is like one of my fav tropes ever omg, I was really hoping they were gonna do that to him. I hope he is in it for more than one episode tho. And oh lordy, like those poor Titans need even more trauma in their lives and now fear gas is in the equation. Oh no, I bet poor Gar is gonna get hit cause they just love to torture that poor boy. And tbh I hope the fearscapes(perfect word for it) will be better than most of the Gotham ones, those seemed a tad cheesy tbh

Lmao about you and kory😂 she is too good for him, but also, this Dick needs someone who can kick his ass and get his head out of his martyr butt 😂 tho tbh, I’m still not fully sold on Dickkory, Like I don’t hate it but I don’t LOVE it in many versions, like they can be cute but no strong feelings, the Original Teen Titans cartoon is like the only exception, I def ship those 2

Omg I low key forgot Donna “died”😂🤦🏻‍♀️ I feel like I knew it wouldn’t last so it didn’t have a big impact on me lol. Like I had/have a feel raven is gonna bring her back. I wanna know what happened to Rose/Joey! Like are they not gonna be in it at all? Especially with Jason going off the deep end?!

Lmao, hawk and dove’s suits😂 I think they did break up, I’ve only seen the series once through tbh, planning to rewatch before S3 tho(and try to force my mom to watch it tho she is convinced everything DC is too dark for her lmao), yeah, I don’t mind them, like I don’t want the focus on them but like they deserve to be happy/need a break, omg yes! That boy needs to be wrapped in a blanket and given a break, that grumpy boy is TIRED. Let him rest!

Lmao! That babs line is so great😂

I’m just so excited for all this live action Batfam content, considering the live action movies NEVER give us Batfam 😭(we aren’t talking about the 80’s/90’s live action robin lmao)

Also so sorry this was so long 🤣🤦🏻‍♀️

#long post #Titans #titans season 3 #Titans S3 #Titans speculation #speculation #predictions #Meredith gets an ask #anon #ask #asks #Jason Todd

[duketectivecomics]

Hey I was wondering if you know the official order of bruce gaining all the kids including harper, Barbara, and stephanie? I know its Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian but where does the other 3 and duke and cass fall in? Tia!!

So I’m gonna assume that you mean the order in which they get adopted, since finding First Appearances is one of the easier things to google for any character. (Getting First Appearance issues afterall is part of the reason some comics retain their value, so it’s usually well documented when a character first shows up. Side note: DCUguide is an excellent resource if you’re looking to comb through appearances for characters, although I’d also recommend asking for reading lists from other fans, since usually those have been curated down to essential storylines only)

I tried to provide actual issue #s where I could, but a lot of the time in comics, it’s usually something that’s dropped or hinted around or casually mentioned rather than outright boldly stated.

Also some of these characters span DECADES and their histories change depending on continuity. So I tried to account for that where I could.

But also canon is fake and everyone in fandom cherry-picks anyways so yknow. Keep THAT in mind too.

Before we dive into this, I wanna have a quick convo on what Legal Guardianship vs Adoption is.

While guardianship includes some of the same responsibilities as adoption, it also comes with a few key differences, such as allowing any living parents (also possibly any living relatives) to contest the guardianship. Adoption would make the child fully and solely the potential parent’s responsibility, and would nullify any legal ‘say’ that the biological parents may have. Also of note, is that  guardianship does not allow the child in question a claim to inheritance unless the guardian specifically wills it to them, as there is again, a bit more of distance that is placed between the child and guardian, as more of a mentorship is expected to take hold. One way to look at it is that adoption is permanent (& usually a longer drawn out process bc of that), while guardianship can be more legally flexible.

With that out of the way, let’s start~

Dick: pre-flashpoint/52, it’s stated often that Dick was actually Bruce’s ward, that Bruce has legal guardianship over Dick. I know this is a nitpick and doesn’t matter bc it’s usually retconned/ignored in favor of Dick being adopted. But I think it’s a fascinating point of potential contention nonetheless. especially given the historical reason, that it was absolutely unheard of at the time for a single man to adopt a child, but no one would bat at eye if he was taking Dick in out of a sense of altruism & duty. Contract this with decades later, when he DOES appear to adopt Jason outright, which puts some friction in place between Dick & Bruce. and well, you’ve got a whole story & conflict to explore right there.

Barbara: Usually dons the Batgirl cowl after Dick becomes Robin (the only exception to that was The Batman (2004) cartoon and it was absolutely galaxy brain of them honestly) She has her own Dad though (idk if y’all know him? Jim Gordon? Yknow? The Commissioner?) so she doesn’t get adopted. She’s considered a core batfam member mostly in the sense that she’s been there so long and esp as she makes herself absolutely essential when she becomes Oracle. She has never, and will likely never be adopted by Bruce (bc again. W h e n is that gonna come up? When Jim dies? L m f a o)

Jason: pre-crisis it’s assumed from the go I guess? I could only find slight confirmation and ended up finding more info that there was a custody battle and that Bruce would won Jason back officially in Detective Comics #548. post-crisis, Jason’s history is redone, though & I remember his adoption being touched on, but could not for the life of me find a particular issue. N52/Rebirth it’s simply assumed from the go as far as I’m aware.

Tim: Batman #654. This was after his father died, though he’d been Robin at this point for at least a decade. For n52/Rebirth as far as I can tell he’s also been outright adopted by Bruce (though I think he’s parents were still alive but in Witness Protection? Idk. I haven’t read at all for Tim’s history there so take that with a heavy grain of salt)

Steph: another one who is not adopted (Crystal Brown is very much alive and taking care of Steph (barring the time Leslie Thompkins squirreled her away after faking Stephs death BUT)) She does show up pretty soon on Tim’s tail when he starts as Robin. Again, she’s considered a staple of the family because of how long she’s been involved with them. I like to think of her like Kimmy in Full House. She’s a Good Friend who’s Constantly Showing Up and is one of the family through mutual agreement on everyone’s part.

Cass: Batgirl (2008) #6, though like Tim, Cass had been Batgirl for nearly a decade at that point in continuity. She’s shown and stated many times that she considers Bruce a father/father figure and likewise that Babs, who had been mentoring her, was the closest she has to a mother. In n52/Rebirth, I have yet to see or hear about official adoption for her, but again. We usually ignore canon on that part anyways. I mean they made her into Orphan so uhhhh. Not super great yknow?

Damian: since he is biologically Bruce’s, it’s never really addressed as far as I’m aware (I have yet to read Damian’s appearances Altho he’s next on my Robin list). I personally think it’d be interesting to explore the fact that he was likely born outside of the country and what that means for Bruce gaining legal custody & whether or not Talia would contest that? I’m sure there’s probably SOME thinkpieces about it out there, but I’ll search for them on my own time eventually

And now we’re getting to *drum roll* Harper and Duke!

Harper: her appearances are mostly kept to the n52 runs, though with Tynion returning to Detective, it’s likely she’s coming back into Rebirth soon. She’s a unique case where, due to her abusive home life, she emancipated herself and took her brother, Cullen, with her. Neither she nor her brother were adopted by Bruce, and as far as I’m aware/understand, they’re fine with it that way. I know Stephanie was living with them at some point (it’s dropped in Batman & Robin: Eternal at least?), so I certainly think it would have been nice if DC also brought them into the fold like Steph. Just a couple of kids who are Really Good Friends with the family and continue to insert themselves in batfam business lmao

Duke: I actually addressed this fairly recently here! Duke’s guardianship (bc like Dick, Duke is not outright adopted by Bruce, likely to afford Duke’s parents the opportunity to regain custody should they recover from Joker’s toxin) its a little more up in the air at this point in Batman & The Outsiders. Since Bruce is very clearly taking both him and Cass away on globetrotting adventures. It would make things EASIER ofc if he is under Bruce’s guardianship. But given that it’s not really addressed, it’s led most of fandom to simply assume it instead. And really? Considering that DC themselves probably doesn’t realize that they’ve written themselves into this corner, it probably won’t be fully addressed or recognized anyways.

So to answer your first question actually: Babs, Steph, and Harper? Not adopted, likely never will be, but they ARE interspersed fairly regularly in the line-up. Everyone else? Varying degrees of being under Bruce’s guardianship if not outright adopted.

We’re all happy that they’re here, though!!! And we love and appreciate them ALL.

#batfamily #fandom stuff #asked and answered #silencespeaks10 #randywrites #today on: randy googles it! #ive read quite a bit of batfam stuff but there were some things i did have to google again to confirm #and as always i highly recommend reading for urself when you can! #but here's the best tl;dr that i can give for the time being! #long post #<- for mobile users OOOOF its long

[meterokinesis]

No Grave Can Hold My Body Down

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 12,032

Fandom: Batfamily, DC Comics

Characters: Tim Drake, Ra’s al Ghul, Tam Fox, OFC, Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne, Fasir Nasser

Pairings: Tim Drake & Ra’s al Ghul, Tim Drake & Tam Fox

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, Chose not to use archive warnings

Tags: Canon divergence, Lazarus Pit, Lazarus Pit Madness, Evil!Tim Drake, Blood and Gore, Psychological Trauma, Survivor’s guilt, Unreliable narrator, Tim Drake is Red Robin, Post-Battle of the Cowl, Bruce is dead, Tim is not having a good time right now

Summary: When Tim Drake leaves to find Bruce, he doesn’t expect to get stabbed. He doesn’t expect to die. And he certainly doesn’t expect to be resurrected. However, the Tim who goes into the Lazarus Pit is not the same Tim who comes out. This Tim is ruthless and unguarded in a way he never was before. And when Ra's starts to take him under his wing... well, what's a disgraced Robin to do?

Author’s Note: This work is part of the Batfam Big Bang! (@batfam-big-bang) I couldn't have done this without my lovely betas, @bisexualoftheblade, @crystalinastar, and @houser-of-stories. There's also some amazing art for this fic that I’ll be posting soon!

Read it on AO3

The desert night was cool, with a breeze that shifted the sand beneath Tim’s feet like waves. The stars gleamed overhead, and for a second he was caught up in how clear the sky was. It had been years since he’d seen stars without a haze of light pollution around them.

Owens and Z were in front of him, his babysitters for the night. Pru was off to his left, fiddling with the safety on her gun. The ride here had been as light-hearted as was possible, given the circumstances, but that jovial tone had ended quickly. Their off-roader had died on them maybe half an hour before, and the small group was still huddled around the machine, waiting as Z checked the engine. Every few seconds, Pru glared at Tim, as if blaming him for the hold up. Though the others had made it very clear that this was a fool’s errand, Tim knew that Bruce was here, somewhere. He had to be, or Tim had thrown everything away for nothing.

That was the issue, wasn’t it? Tim might be the world’s greatest detective, now that Bruce was… out of commission. But his hunches could still be wrong. What if- no. He couldn’t afford to think like that. He would bring Bruce back, he had to.

“Hey, Drake, are you done brooding yet?” Pru’s voice echoed over the empty land. Tim huffed noncommittally and looked up to see the bald assassin twirling her gun on her finger.

“I’m a Bat. We’re never done brooding,” he quipped, before fiddling with the little radio receiver he had brought along. It didn’t do more than give off static when it was on, but having something to do with his hands helped.

Rolling her eyes, Pru gestured over to a precariously balanced pile of rocks. “Wanna see if I can hit the top one off without knocking over the others?”

Tim sighed heavily and dragged himself over to her, Owens trailing behind. Out of the corner of his eye, he even saw Z peek out from behind the hood to watch.

Squaring off, Pru brought up her gun and fired off a shot. To no one’s surprise, the top rock went flying and the others remained still, albeit with a slight wobble.

“Fuck yeah! Z, did you see…” She trailed off, her face blanching. Tim followed suit, only to be greeted with Z on the ground, chest bleeding in a way his medical training told him was too much. His brown eyes were already glassy, and his chest wasn’t moving anymore. It was then that the rest of the image came into focus, and Tim’s eyes finally latched onto the cloaked man holding two bloody swords.

“I am the Widower,” the man said, his voice low and bone-chilling. “And here I was, thinking you’d put up a fight.”

Tim drew his bo staff, eyes tracking Pru and Owens as they rushed toward the Widower, guns at the ready. He had barely taken a step, but they were already on the ground, Pru bleeding from a large gash in her neck and Owens trying in vain to keep pressure on the wound in between his ribs.

Quick--what were his weaknesses? No visible limps or injuries, no issues handling the weapons. He moved like a snake through grass, smooth and precise. The Widower’s blades gleamed in the moonlight, and Pru’s blood dripped onto the sand. Tim lashed out with his staff, catching one of the swords right as it flew toward his throat.

“I guess dead birdies tell no tales,” Widower whispered as he drove the second sword, the one Tim had forgotten about, into Tim’s stomach.

The vigilante staggered back, and fell to his knees, clutching his abdomen. The blade slid out and even through the gloves of his suit, Tim could feel his blood, warm and sticky. Was this how he was going to die? Mission incomplete, estranged from his family, bleeding out into the desert sand? He had never assumed he would survive in this job, but he’d at least thought he’d die as Robin. Oh god, he was never going to be Robin again.

The ground rushed up to greet him, sand in his mouth and eyes and hair. He supposed that it didn’t matter--it’s not like corpses care anyway. With his last ounces of strength, he rolled onto his back. Somewhere, some last shred of knowledge told him that this would keep him from bleeding out, but deep down he knew it was too late. Tim just wanted the stars to be the last thing he saw.

As darkness encroached on the corners of his vision, his mind drifted back to Bruce. This was it. The only father figure he’d ever had, or at least the only one who liked him as he was, would be doomed to never return. And it was all Tim’s fault.

The afterlife was dark. And cold. Tim had never been religious, aside from that year of Hebrew school his parents insisted he take in middle school, but even he knew that this wasn’t right. It took a second, but the cold and dark sharpened into something Tim knew well, his kitchen at home. Well, at Drake Manor.

The marble countertops gleamed, as did the floors, and Tim recalled tiptoeing around in his early childhood, so not to dirty them. The kitchen--really, the whole house--had always felt like a mausoleum. Cold, impersonable. Lonely. In some ways, a lot like Tim.

He drifted through the house, looking pointedly away from the family portrait that hung above the fireplace. It had been painted a few months before his mom was killed, right after he became Robin. They all looked so stiff, like actors playing a family in a movie. Actually, actors would probably do a better job than they did. That portrait had been the first thing Tim had put in storage when his dad died.

The curtains were drawn, letting in the gray sunlight Gotham was so well-known for. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted his lawn, except… not. Gravestones dotted the otherwise pristine lawn, some new and some old and worn. He hesitated at the door, fingertips just brushing the doorknob. He was dead, it wasn’t like he could get hurt. Maybe this was some kind of purgatory that he had to deal with before he could move on. He pushed against the door, anticipating the old hitch in the hinges that had been around for years.

The air held the same chill as the house, pulling at Tim’s breath. Front and center, practically in the doorway, was Bruce’s grave, the one they’d buried him in just over a month ago. But now the death date was scratched out, in its place a sticker like the ones Tim used to put on his skateboard. It read: Eternally Damned To Disappointment. It’d sound like the name of a band Tim might’ve listened to, if he didn’t know that the disappointment was in him.

The next grave was older, cracked and crumbly. The ground in front of it was disturbed, and dried blood streaks marked the bottom of the headstone. Here lies Jason Todd. Well, that didn’t last long. And unlike Jason, Tim knew he wasn’t coming back. He wasn’t that lucky.

Next was Steph, or at least the grave she pretended to fill. It was covered in flowers, some of them bouquets Tim had left himself. Tim had spent hours in front of it, telling her how much he missed her and loved her, praying for the first and last times. When she came back… well, they were more distant than he would’ve liked. That wasn’t Steph’s fault, at least not entirely, but it did make him wonder. What if he never took back the mantle? Would this have been easier? He could’ve been a semi-normal teenager, living with his dad and stepmom, mourning his girlfriend and being blissfully unaware of the shitshow that was heroism. But he wouldn’t have been happy.

And speak of the devil, there’s his parents’ graves, right next to each other. It was almost funny how they were closer in death than in life. A boomerang was lodged in his father’s gravestone, with an old flip phone opened at the base. It listed Tim’s number as the last call. His mother’s had a sticky substance that a voice deep inside Tim told him not to touch. He lingered at these graves for a moment, breath caught in his throat. It’s not that he didn’t miss his parents--he did. But he had only known a piece of them, only just deeper than surface level. They weren’t parents as much as guardians with high expectations. And for the most part, he had met or exceeded every goal they gave him. But it never was enough. There was always another class to ace or language to learn or party to schmooze at. Worst of all, they were cold. If Tim was the chill night air, his parents were Antarctica.

The next grave stopped him in his tracks. Bart. One of his best friends, his ally in all things. Gone, but not in the way Bruce or Steph were. Bart wasn’t coming back. There would be no more Hawaiian pizza and donuts shared over a comic book, or sleepovers on the floor of Mount Justice. No more Wendy the Werewolf Stalker Marathons. There was no more Bart, and it stung in a way that Tim didn’t have a name for.

He turned around, expecting that to be the end of it, but there it was. Conner. All at once, the weight of the world fell on Tim’s shoulders, like his own personal Kryptonite. His best friend, someone he had been more than a little in love with once upon a time. He knew Conner was safe now, alive and saving people once again. Without Tim. Conner’s death had been the one that broke him, more than any of the others. Because if Conner Kent, Superboy and heartbreaker extraordinaire, hadn’t made it, what chance did Tim have? Well, obviously not much. How was Conner going to take this? He wasn’t like Tim, this was the first time he’d be alone.

Aren’t you tired of losing the ones you love? Aren’t you tired of being the one left behind? A quiet voice murmured in the back of his skull.

Yes. No. Yes. A sob tore from Tim’s chest, and his hand flew to his mouth. This was so stupid. He had dealt with loss before. Hell, the past year had been one unending funeral. Of course he was tired, who wouldn’t be?

This had to be Hell, but that felt like even more of a betrayal. Even Jason had made it to Heaven. Was this his punishment for toeing the line? Had he not suffered enough? Biting back another sob, Tim ran blindly toward the door, slamming it shut behind him in a way that would’ve made his mother shriek. When he opened his eyes, he wasn’t in his living room anymore, but the Batcave. Even with his eyes full of tears, he would know it anywhere. And there was Dick in the Batsuit. And the demon in his Robin gear. Tim opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Dick looked up, expression weary.

“Tim, I already told you. Bruce isn’t coming back. I’m Batman now, and that means I get to choose the Robin. It’s about time you accept that.” It sure sounded like Dick. “Besides, it’s not like you were doing a great job anyway. You let Batman be killed on the job.” Damian sneered, leaning against Dick’s chair like a bully in a high school rom com.

“That-That’s not my fault!” Tim cried, heart pounding in his ears.

“Look, there’s an heir and a spare. There’s a new Robin now, you can be whatever you’re calling yourself now. Go do whatever you have to on this suicide mission, but leave Gotham out of it.”

Damian smiled like a demonic cherub. “Yes, Drake. Not even Grayson wants you anymore, if he ever did.”

Tim stood in shocked silence, unable to find words. Sure, Dick was focused on Damian, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t care anymore. After all, they were brothers, right?

He’s taken the only thing you had left. Don’t you want revenge? He took your mantle, you should take it back. The voice sounded like Tim, but contorted--like it would on a recording.

Tim--no, not Tim, something else--reached back for the bo staff. As his hand gripped the metal, something flew toward him, hitting him directly in the stomach where he had been stabbed. It clattered to the floor, and through his pain, Tim realized it was a Batarang.

Don’t you want more, Timothy Drake-Wayne? It coaxed.

Yes.

The new Timothy Drake-Wayne took his first breaths in a cave deep in the Iraqi desert, hundreds of miles away from the house and the graves that had haunted his dream. It was cold here, nearly as cold as that dream had been. If he was in Hell, it would be hotter, wouldn’t it?

Tim swallowed hard and pushed himself up. His stomach, where he was pretty sure he had just been stabbed, was free of wounds or scarring. If anything, he felt stronger than he had before. As his feet touched the stone cold floor, he took note of the ninjas scattered around the room. Okay, so he was back at the League. They must have… The prior strength he had felt disappeared as his legs gave out. Normally he would have rolled or caught himself or something, but his gaze was fixed on the other side of the room, where a glowing green pit resided.

Oh, no.

No weapons, outnumbered, barely able to stand. The disadvantages stacked up before his eyes, screaming that there was no hope of him getting out of this one. Not to mention that he was probably already on his way to insanity. Fuck, the last time he’d seen Jason, the former Robin had almost killed him. Would Tim end up like that, homicidal and cruel?

He struggled to his feet, clutching the stone table for support. He could take out two, maybe three, if he just stopped thinking. He was trained for this, he could--

“Hello there, Detective,” a cold voice purred, quiet but deafening in the silent room. A chill hovered under Tim’s skin. It had been a long time since he’d last heard that voice. Detective? Isn’t that what he calls your mentor? There was the voice again, the only remaining fragment of the dream.

Ra’s al Ghul was one of those people who intimidated you just by existing in the same space. He reminded Tim of every strict teacher and cruel board member and snotty dinner party guest all rolled up into one. Oh, and he was the leader of the world’s largest assassin guild. That was important too.

“Did you find what you were looking for, Timothy?” Ra’s said in the same tone.

The teenager opened his mouth, then closed it again, searching for words. “No,” he managed to force out. “No, I didn’t.”

Are you sure?

Ra’s smiled, like a predator that had just gone for the killing blow. “Well, I suppose that you will have more than enough time to complete your quest during your stay with us.” And just like that, he turned, a group of ninjas peeling off to escort him back to whatever pit of Hell he’d crawled from. “If you need anything, ask for the White Ghost. Welcome to the Cradle, Detective.” And just like that, he was gone.

Tim was only alone with his thoughts for a minute before a tall man with alabaster skin and medieval-style chainmail entered the cavern.

Okay, so this was the White Ghost impersonator. The League wouldn’t kill someone they’d just resurrected, so maybe once he was alone he could escape? Go back to Gotham and see Dick and Sebastian and Zoanne one last time before he truly went insane, then start going to that therapist Dick recommended. He could make it through this, he wouldn’t end up like Jason--

And then in walked Tam Fox, looking terrified but for the most part unharmed. And all of Tim’s plans came crashing down.

Tam was a civilian, and a Wayne Enterprises employee to boot. Her life, and his identity, were in danger now. He was both her only savior and her greatest danger. New plan: listen to this knockoff White Ghost, do whatever it takes to gain their trust, then make it out with Tam at the first possible chance. And do it all without going off the deep end.

Easy. Not.

“I am the White Ghost,” the shitty cosplayer said, his chainmail clinking as he moved.

“Isn’t he dead?” Tim murmured under his breath. He’d definitely seen Dusan die. But if Tim was still alive, then maybe…

“There has always been a White Ghost,” the older man responded, as if that answered anything. “Now, it is time you and your guest retired to your quarters.”

Tam looked over at Tim, big brown eyes wide with fear. He nodded once, tried to conjure a press conference smile, and allowed them to be led to lavish bedchambers. They looked like beautiful, windowless prisons.

The next few weeks blended into their own lethal monotony. Tam stayed in her room all day and Tim went to meetings with various members of the League’s regime. It was a little like working at Drake Industries or Wayne Enterprises, just with more murder. A lot more murder. But the meetings were easy enough, and Tim soon found himself getting to know the people he once despised. He didn’t like them by any means, but he wasn’t terrified anymore.

He kept looking for Bruce. The desert gave no answers.

Tam didn’t ask questions. She didn’t push too hard. She had to know everyone’s identities by now, didn’t she? Tim was just one Robin-shaped piece of the puzzle. Here he was, in the desert, yet another failed Robin. His whole tenure, he’d been trying to live up to Jason Todd, and now in a sick way he had. Wearing Jason’s uniform, having been resurrected the same way, he now dreaded catching up to the boy who had once been his hero.

On nights when he cried silently into the silk sheets, trying to forget the way Jason had looked when he first came back to Gotham, the voice soothed: You can be greater than he ever was. You can outshine all of the others. You will be remembered when they are dust.

The desert was cold. There was no comfort here.

His bedchamber was nice enough. There was a large bed with silk sheets and gold accents and an ensuite bathroom. A large mirror took up the space where a window might have once been, like some sort of philosophical conundrum that Tim was too tired to try to unpack. There was a small passageway between his room and Tam’s, and if Tim was just a little more naive he would have believed that the League forgot about it when they placed him in this room. But he knew better. The League never forgot a thing.

Sometimes Tim caught himself in the mirror and for a second he swore his blue eyes looked green. Tam came in the next morning to glass littering the floor and cuts covering Tim’s hands. She said nothing while she helped him wrap up his knuckles.

Tim had always been adaptable. It’s easier than the constant push and shove of rebellion. When his parents told him to take those classes and join these clubs, he did. When he was instructed to give impromptu speeches at galas, he did. He put in the effort, he always had. He was never the best fighter and never would be, but he was smart and quick and brave. That had to mean something, right?

Maybe that’s why Ra’s al Ghul liked him so much.

The first time Ra’s al Ghul asked for a private meeting with Tim, the ground seemed to tilt under him. The well-trained vigilante tried not to show the fear in his eyes as his vision blurred and his heart thundered in his chest. But he went, because one did not say no to the Demon’s Head.

“Detective,” Ra’s began as he sat down at a large, stately desk that seemed out of place in the rest of the Cradle. The voices--he had taken to calling them whispers--that had been clogging Tim’s thoughts preened at the nickname, ignoring its former bearer.

“Tell me what you know about my grandson,” the assassin drawled, his fingers tapping on the desk rhythmically.

“Don’t you have spies for that?” Tim responded, not quite a retort but not an innocent question either. He’d seen enough of the League’s intel that it was clear how much they truly knew about the world outside the Cradle.

“Yes, but I’d prefer to hear it from someone… familiar with him. My eyes can only do so much from afar.”

Tim had no doubt that Ra’s knew everything about Damian: from the route he took to school to the cereal he ate for breakfast to how many times he pet Titus when he got home from school.

“He’s a brat.” Tim’s chagrin even took him by surprise, like it wasn’t really him talking. “He’s rude and inconsistent and incredibly immature. He’s aggressive and undisciplined. A sorry excuse for a Robin.”

And there it was, the green monster of jealousy rearing its head again. Yes, Damian had taken Robin from him unfairly, and yes, he was all of those things. But why did Ra’s care?

“I see. Would you describe him as a leader?”

“No. If anything, he’s a bully and a mama’s boy. Leaders need to be able to listen to others.” Where was he getting this? Damian was a kid, he could learn. He still had time.

“Interesting.” Ra’s rose from his chair and paced the edge of the room. Tim refused to look back and follow his movements. That would be a show of weakness, a drop of blood in a shark tank. “Detective, what do you have in Gotham? What do you have there that keeps you from dedicating yourself to your cause?”

Nothing.

Tim stifled a gasp as he thought of the instant response. Dick and Damian didn’t need him. Stephanie hadn’t called in months, even before Bruce died. Jason had tried to kill him, last they’d spoken. The Teen Titans were getting along just fine without him. Truthfully, the whispers were right. There was nothing left for him in Gotham. If there was, he would have stayed.

“Nothing.” The anymore went unsaid.

“Then I may have a proposal for you.” Ra’s eyes glowed a dangerous green. A pit formed in Tim’s stomach, as the last few vestiges of him that hadn’t sided with the voices screamed at him to just escape.

“Oh?” Tim responded, mouth bone-dry.

“Stay.”

And Tim’s world crumpled.

“Learn under my agents. Train to become better than you are. Continue your quest with my resources behind you. All you have to do is stay and work for me,” Ra’s smiled like a hunter who had just shot big game.

This was a terrible idea. Tim didn’t kill people, he refused. He was supposed to help people, not hurt them. But he couldn’t deny that feeling like he belonged again was incredibly enticing.

Tim opened his mouth, but Ra’s cut him off. “Your friend will not be harmed. I won’t even think about putting you on an assignment until you’re up to par with my best ninjas. I will not make this offer again.”

The voice that responded was not Tim’s own.

“Yes.”

Tim thought that six months of training with Bruce was brutal. Ha hadn’t known brutal until now.

His first day of training, he showed up in his Red Robin suit, now patched and reinforced where he had been stabbed.

The tall ninja that seemed to be in charge scoffed, then sent him away. Not fifteen minutes later, a tailor descended on Tim’s quarters with a tape measure and a face made of solid stone.

“Can’t have you looking like a target, all in red. What was Batman thinking?”

Maybe he wants them to be targets, Tim and the whispers thought in tandem. He balked at the thought, but the tailor’s firm hands kept him in place. What was he doing? Bruce had loved him, did love him. He had taken care of Tim when no one else would. Bile crawled through the back of Tim’s throat, but he swallowed it down.

The tailor finished her measurements and scanned Tim up and down.

“It will have to be black, of course. Reinforced joints, kevlar, the whole nine yards,” she stated in a lilting accent. “Maybe some green accents, dark ones. Classy. Half-mask, no more cowls or dominos.”

Red, yellow, and black were his colors and had been for years. A tribute to a boy he loved and lost then loved some more. But Conner was back now. And Tim was tired of mourning, especially when no one was dead. Well, except him.

“Green,” he agreed, swallowing thickly. He wasn’t Red Robin anymore, not really. And he could always wear the suit again. This wasn’t a finale, just a hiatus.

She nodded once and then swept away, leaving a teenager clutching the last thing he had of his old life. Tim folded the suit, the way Alfred had always chastised him for, and gingerly placed it in the bottom drawer of his wardrobe. He wouldn’t need it anytime soon.

The next day, a precisely wrapped package sat outside Tim’s door bearing no signature. He knew exactly what it was.

Upon peeling back the paper, he saw the full glory of the new suit. It was midnight black, with dark green stitches that were beautiful up close, but would be near-invisible from far away. It looked like a cross between the ninjas’ garb and body armor--sleek and sure of itself. A hood was attached to the back of the neck, with the green stitching spelling out something Tim couldn’t discern. A half-mask with built in air filters covered the rest of the face. As he patted the suit down, he felt where all the separate compartments were for weapons and utilities. It reminded him a little of the costumes from high-tech spy movies.

Sitting on the floor with his new suit in his lap, Tim added another item to the long lists of debts he owed Ra’s al Ghul.

His first real day of training, Tim was beaten so badly he could hardly drag himself to his room.

It wasn’t that they had intended to hurt him, but he had gone almost a month without training. Bruises laced up his cheekbone like their own little domino mask, a little memento of times gone by. His joints screamed out in pain as he collapsed onto his bed. At least he hadn’t broken any bones. Or been stabbed. Or died.

Tim only had a few minutes to contemplate the stuntman funniest fails video that was his life when a gentle knock came from the door.

“Come in,” he groaned, flopping over onto his side so he could see his company. His mother would have scolded him for not standing up to greet a guest, but she didn’t have much sway from six feet under.

A girl with olive-tan skin and a brunette bun stepped into the threshold, her smile the gentlest thing he’d seen in a long time.

“Hello, my name is Aminta. I figured you could use some help with your wounds.” Her voice was lower than he expected, but pretty nonetheless. A dark, untraceable accent threaded through her words.

He peered up at her, frowning.

“Is this a hazing thing? Am I being hazed?”

She chuckled, then sat on the ottoman at the edge of his bed.

“Not hazing. The new recruits tend to help each other through the first few months. Safety in numbers and all that. I thought you might want some assistance.”

“So, you’re all friends?” That didn’t sound right.

“No,” she hesitated for a moment, “not exactly. Friends is too... common. We are assassins, but we have honor. When we need to, we take care of our own.”

Ah, so he was one of them now. For some indescribable reason, that didn’t fill him with as much dread as he thought it would.

You have no friends. You never did. Just those who you will rule and those who you will crush, the whispers added.

Tim smiled, the shy grin he used when he wanted teachers and Wayne Enterprises board members to underestimate him.

“Thank you, Aminta. I’d appreciate that. My name is Tim.”

She winked at him, clearly a joke.

“Believe me, I know.”

The League had a mole.

Or at least, they were going to. Tim had known enough corrupt businessmen in his time in Gotham’s upper echelon that he was well versed in the signs of someone double-dipping. At first it was little things: missing pieces of inventory, strange new guard shifts, incorrect mission intel. By the time it escalated to money being skimmed off the top of jobs, Ra’s was furious.

When he called Tim in for a meeting, something that was becoming increasingly normal these days, Tim was expecting fiery rage. Instead, there was steel-sharp cunning. It was a little like looking in a funhouse mirror.

“Detective, it appears that we have a liability in our ranks,” Ra’s began, his fingertips caressing a blade. “I assume you’ve read the data I sent to your quarters, and I’d like your thoughts.”

Tim cleared his throat. He had spent the night before reading the reports, putting together the pieces. If this was a test, it was a wicked one.

“The incidents began shortly after the attacks by the Widower. It’s a piece of misdirection intended to frame either Pru or I as a mole. However, neither of us has any reason for betrayal. Pru is, and has always been, loyal to the League. And you are well aware that I have nothing left for me in Gotham, nor would I be stupid enough to allow myself to get caught.” His voice was smooth, the prince of Gotham giving yet another speech.

“There is someone who has means, motive, and opportunity. After reading your files, it is incredibly clear. He has a family of his own that he is loyal to, and during my resurrection, he was not in the Cradle. His computer prowess would allow him to mess with the system in a way few others could. It would have been a very clean job, if he had spread it out over months or years instead of a few weeks.”

Ra’s stroked his goatee.

“You mean the Expediter.”

“Yes.”

“Very well,” Ra’s rose from the desk and clasped his hands behind his back. “Now that we’ve established the perpetrator, it is time to establish the punishment.”

Ah, so here was the test. Ra’s wanted to see how ruthless Tim could be. It was a very good thing that Tim never failed an exam.

“Kill him. It will send a message to our other agents and whoever he worked for that we are not to be trifled with.” Tim’s hands shook, but his voice was full of conviction. He had always been a good actor, but it wasn’t clear how much was truth now.

“And his daughters?”

“Bring them to the Cradle. They’re young enough that they likely won’t remember him, and we’ll be able to shape their childhood. Perhaps one will become just as intelligent as her father, and wiser as well.” The whispers hissed wordlessly in disappointment, but it was worth it. Tim refused to order the execution of a child, no matter how loud the shrieking in his skull became.

There was a beat of dead silence, then Ra’s nodded sagely.

“Wise choice, Detective. I’ll put those orders into effect at once.” He smiled, his teeth gleaming as his dagger had. “I’m looking forward to the rest of our partnership.”

Oh, how the whispers laughed.

Life in the Cradle was, well, nice. Tim was training harder than he ever had, under much more strenuous conditions, yet he felt better than he ever had. He was stronger, for one thing, but for the first time since he’d discovered Batman and Robin’s identities, he was able to rest. He didn’t need to be up until dawn chasing people across rooftops or finishing reports or writing an essay for English class because he’d been too busy on patrol. Even in a den of killers, Tim felt almost safe.

That said, he refused to let his guard down. He’d sat in on meetings with the inner circle of the Cradle for months now, trying to use his famous brain for something important. Which for his purposes, meant destroying the League as best as possible.

That was the only reason he’d stayed, or at least that’s what he told himself during nights where he twisted and turned trying to justify his choices. He’d exploit the League’s generosity to train himself and find Bruce, then take it down. Bruce would have to be proud of him after that, they all would. Maybe he’d even be Robin again.

He’d already taken out the Expediter, Ra’s’ guy in the chair. The guy confessed to the mistake of having a family and trying to work for the League at the same time. Good thing Tim didn’t have to worry about that anymore.

This is good, but it is not enough. You crave more. Do not be a coward, take it.

Now Tim was the techie for an international assassin guild, which would look moderately impressive on a college resume. Maybe it could count as an internship. Ra’s seemed like the guy who would make a relatively okay reference when Harvard came calling.

It always felt strange when he had lunch with Ra’s. It was eerily similar to the fancy lunches his mom used to drag him to, or the etiquette classes he was forced to take where he learned how to properly use a melon baller. Of course, it wasn’t like he was going to be killed for using a melon baller wrong then. Now, he knew that any wrong move could result in death.

Not his own death, of course. There was no point in Ra’s bringing back Tim, just to kill him again. Tam, however, was expendable. And that made the marrow in Tim’s bones shiver.

This particular lunch was more focused on memory lane than shop talk.

“So, Detective, tell me: what did you want to be when you grew up?”

Tim swallowed hard around his tea sandwich, his throat suddenly painfully dry.

“When I was little, I wanted to be a clown. Not a great career path in Gotham,” he began, attempting to keep his voice light. Ra’s looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue.

“Then, I wanted to be a photographer. Then, my father said I would be a CEO or I’d be disowned, so I wanted to be a CEO. I could always do photography on the side, you know?

“And then I became Robin.” He let the weight of that sentence sink over the pair.

“So? What happened after that?”

Tim resisted the urge to stare at his sandwich, instead choosing to meet Ra’s’ bright green eyes.

“Then, I stopped thinking I would grow up.” There it was, the thing everyone had been trying to pry out of him for years.

“I mean, Dick barely made it out. Jason died, came back, went crazy, and now murders people for shits and giggles. Stephanie died, but only kinda. Damian’s got a stubborn streak a mile wide. In the wild, robins live for a year, maybe two if they’re lucky. I don’t think anyone realized how similar we all are to those stupid birds.” Tears pricked at the backs of his eyes, but he didn’t need to cry. All that pain was gone now, replaced by something else. He couldn’t name it, but it kept all the sadness away.

Tim had been sad for his whole life. It was a relief when the roiling ocean inside him froze over. Numbness was an improvement.

Ra’s leaned across the table, his face barely a foot from Tim’s.

“You know, Detective, you remind me of myself. Not when I was young, of course, but when I had just begun to build my empire. All your life you have been told to quiet down and listen instead of speaking. You’re a fine leader because of it. You adapt when others are stubborn. You make plans while they push through without a second thought. You are a snake lying in wait, anticipating the right time to strike. I admire that.”

The air hung in silence as Ra’s stared directly into Tim’s soul.

“You know,” Ra’s finally said, “I think you could be truly great one day.”

Tim barely breathed as he nodded his thanks. When Ra’s finally leaned away, his first breath felt like the first gasp of air from a drowning victim.

“Before our lunch concludes, and I do so enjoy our lunches, I have a query for you.” This wasn’t out of the ordinary, Ra’s liked to give him riddles to keep him on his toes. “Some of our ninjas, though I will not say who, have gone rogue. A year or so ago, they got themselves caught up in some nasty business. My current intel places them here, in this compound, where they’re using innocents as collateral, should they not get what they request.”

“What do they want?”

“My head on a platter.” Ra’s’ smile was bloodchilling. “Oh, Detective? I feel it’s important to note: international news stations are currently reporting you and Ms. Fox as having been kidnapped by these rogues. Any advice on how to fix that?”

So this was the second test. Another chance to prove his loyalty. Let Ra’s’ enemies go free, or kill them and forfeit his old life for good in return.

“I assume extraction is not possible?”

“I’m afraid that those deserters are incredibly well trained. The special units from any nation’s army wouldn’t even make it into the compound. My ninjas could make it in, but there’s no way they could take out the traitors and save the civilians.”

Tim nodded, pretending to contemplate. He already knew his answer.

“Bomb the compound, kill everyone inside. It’s better to cut off the rot now than give it the chance to spread.”

Ra’s did not smile, but his eyes glimmered with pride.

“My thoughts exactly, Detective.”

And just like that, the death warrant was signed.

Tam was waiting in his chambers when Tim got home from a long day of training, his body littered in bruises and cuts that would sting tomorrow. Her crossed arms functioned as a hug, like she was the only thing keeping herself together.

“Tim,” she whispered when he came into view, the word like a prayer.

He glided across the room wordlessly, and she wrapped him in a tight embrace.

“I managed to get someone to sneak me a newspaper. Th-They think we’re dead, Tim,” she said into his shoulder, words slightly muffled by the fabric.

His hand came up to stroke her hair, the way he used to comfort Cass after a particularly long day. Tim didn’t respond, and instead let her tears soak into his shirt.

Good. Now you have the element of surprise.

The Council of Spiders had a worthy namesake, as they were just as quick and deadly as any arachnid. Somehow they had crept past the League’s defenses, disabling the ninjas that got in their way. True to form, the assassins’ deaths were just as silent as they were--shadows fading out as dusk began to form.

Tim was preparing for another day of strategy and mind games when Aminta burst into the room.

“The Spiders are here. They managed to sneak in--no one knows how. You’re needed,” she gasped, as if she’d ran a marathon to deliver this message. Judging from her state of disarray, maybe she had.

“Tam?”

“I’ll protect her. Go!”

Tim didn’t have time to question these motives or worry about much more than tugging on his cowl and pulling out his bo staff. He sprinted out the door and into the madness, moving in a dangerous dance with the assassins he had trained alongside for the past few months. The League was good, great even. But with the element of surprise, the Spiders were better.

He couldn’t afford to think about what could happen if they lost. Failure was not an option, not anymore.

A shadow glided toward one of the empty hallways and away from the rest of the frenzy, a sword glinting in its hand. Something that had dug its claws deep in Tim’s bones pulled him toward the figure, urging him to follow. To finish the job.

If others saw red when enraged, Tim saw green.

The figure purposefully stalked toward the large office Tim had started to spend increasing amounts of time in. The footsteps were near-silent, but in his mind they echoed almost deafeningly loud.

The shadow had to know he was there. It had to. Tim was good, but a few months of training could never rival lifetimes.

The shadow glanced over its shoulder, a feline-esque smile on its face. It said something, probably a witty yet scathing remark, but it was drowned out by the cacophony of whispers in Tim’s mind.

Do it.

Finish the job.

Show them who you are, who you can be.

Prove yourself.

You are not a bird, you are not a bat.

You are a demon, and you do not know weakness.

Not a Robin, not Red.

You are Green, Green, Green.

Become who you were always destined to be, Detective.

Tim struck out with his bo staff, right into the shadow’s skull. It faltered, just for a millisecond, and that creature that was both Tim and not lashed out, quicker than it had any right to be. A dagger in his hand, sharpened to a razor-thin edge. He did not remember doing that. That same dagger, buried into deep tan flesh.

Then he was across the room, bones aching from being thrown into the stone wall. If he was still human, still able to rein in whatever was drowning out his senses, he would know to expect pain tomorrow. But he didn’t, and all he felt was the adrenaline rushing through his veins.

And he was up again, throwing himself at the shadow with the conviction of a greek hero who knew that this fight would be his last. A fist full of rings connected with his cheek, and he could feel the skin tear beneath the metal. Maybe it would even scar.

The shadow leaned heavily to one side, though whether it was from the stab placed between its ribs or a prior injury, Tim didn’t know. It lurched toward him, and he stabbed it again, this time twisting the dagger until he felt the give of a lung. The shadow was down now, and deep down Tim knew that he never should have beaten it, never should have landed a single blow. In a logical world, Tim would have lost ten times over. But in a logical world, Tim would have been dead for the past six months.

As if time was in slow motion but he was at normal speed, Tim glided through the seconds, pushing pressure points with the tip of his blade. The shadow’s sword lay across the hall, too far out of reach for retaliation. This wasn’t torture, but it was revenge--for pain and sacrifice and nights spent clawing at his own skin, wishing it still felt like his. Payback for months of sins he never would have committed, for the green that clouded his vision. But most of all, it was a promise.

After minutes that held years of heartwrenching pain, Tim delivered the killing blow, straight under the shadow’s chin and into its brain. He was covered in blood, tacky and rust-toned, but where a past Tim--a lesser Tim--would have balked or vomited at the sight, this Tim stood, cleaned off his blade, and hefted the cooling corpse onto his shoulder.

They can try to revive it with the Lazarus Pit. You cannot allow that to happen. You cannot fail, the whispers urged, but he no longer needed them. They were him and he was them. Green in every breath and thought.

Tim escaped into the desert and finished the job, just as he had always been taught to do. Ra’s would have been proud. Bruce would have been proud.

That night, after the Spiders had been exterminated and the mess cleaned up, Tim sat at the foot of his bed, staring at his hands. The ninjas had looked at him with what could be called pride when he staggered back into the fray, his face bruised and bloody and sporting a wound on his thigh. His silky clothes brushed past the injuries every few seconds, but he couldn’t muster the energy to wince, even though he knew he should.

Tam had managed to hide during the clash, and Aminta had kept her promise. Tim liked people who followed through.

After being given the all clear, he stumbled back to his room to wash out his wounds and scrub the smell of smoke off his skin.

He had only just changed into his silky clothes when a knock came at the door. Without waiting for a response, the White Ghost was in Tim’s room, staring down at the teenager with an unnameable expression on his face.

“Timothy Drake,” the man said by way of greeting.

Tim glanced at him and blinked owlishly, but did not respond.

“Ra’s al Ghul is dead.”

This gripped Tim’s attention, and he finally made eye contact with the assassin, his brow creasing in concern.

“You’re going to revive him, right? He told me that you have more Lazarus Pits near here, he can use one of those. How did he die?” A million scenarios raced through Tim’s head, films of the death of the Demon.

“They burned him on a pyre and left him in his study. No trace of cause of death, and we can’t revive him. Any DNA has been destroyed.”

Tim stared blankly, processing. The Demon’s Head, the invincible Ra’s al Ghul, was dead. Gone forever.

“Ra’s made plans, should he die,” the White Ghost continued. “Those plans include a new leader of the League of Shadows. And that leader is you.”

Tim sputtered, “What? You can’t be serious. I’m seventeen years old. Why not you? Or Talia or Nyssa? Or Damian?”

“I do not make light of these things. He said you, so it is you. I am the White ghost. He had not contacted his daughters in years, and his grandson is too unpredictable to be suited to the position. You are the Demon’s Head, Timothy Drake.”

Tim stared back numbly. He was the Demon’s Head. The Cradle was his, these assassins were his, the world was his. He wanted power, and now it had fallen into his lap. The White Ghost kneeled before him and bowed his head. “I will serve you, Timothy Drake, in whatever way you see fit. I will be your eyes and ears and hands. I will obey you and carry out your orders. I pledge my allegiance to you, and only to you.” Satisfied with his vow, he rose to his full height.

Tim swallowed hard, then looked back up. “I accept your vow and thank you for your loyalty.” Then, “When… When will the rest know?”

“Tomorrow, at noon. I thought it might be best for everyone to rest, and for you to know first. We can discuss further details tomorrow morning, but for now, know who you are.”

Tim nodded stiffly and pushed himself to his feet, straightening his spine the way his mother had taught him to. He had been raised to become a prince of Gotham, one of the pretty boys that graced magazine covers and made headlines at charity events. Now, he was a king of assassins, an emperor of the underworld. If only she could see him now. Maybe she’d even be proud of him, for once.

“Thank you, White Ghost. We will speak again tomorrow. Should there be any issues during the night, I would like for you to inform me immediately.” He may be clad in silk pyjamas, but there was leadership in every fiber of his being. The whispers hissed in agreement.

“Fadir Nasser. My name is Fadir Nasser. Long live the Demon’s Head,” the White Ghost--Fadir--said as he left the room, the last remark stinging with a hint of a joke.

The door locked shut behind him, and Tim flopped backward onto the bed, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. His gaze fell to the closet, where his suit was stuffed in the corner, smelling of smoke and burning flesh and the irony tang of blood. The whispers quickly supplied a description of the events, but Tim could picture them clear as day--carrying Ra’s to the desert, building and lighting a pyre, then bringing the body back and placing it in Ra’s’ study for someone to find. It was incredibly simple, almost too simple for no one to have done before. But Tim was Green, Greener than anyone had ever been before. And no one would ever know.

He’d need to invest in a new suit befitting his new role, maybe bring back some green accents. He no longer needed to mourn Conner. He no longer needed to mourn at all. He was the Demon’s Head, and he would never die.

The whispers laughed cruelly, like the audience of a poorly-written tragedy.

The transition of power wasn’t smooth, but it was quick. Assassins weren’t particularly known for their loyalty, and Fadir made it clear that any dissenters wouldn’t even make it to the door. They only had to clean blood off the stone floors once before that lesson sunk in.

As far as coups go, it was pretty successful. The whispers had quieted, just a little. Tim could sometimes make it hours without the hissing in the back of his mind, reminding him that he couldn’t rest. With power comes paranoia, and Tim was intimately familiar with both.

Now to rid himself of liabilities.

It had been a particularly lucid day, and Tim’s near-silent footsteps were the only hint of noise in the hallway. Tam had been given the option to move her room closer to his, but had refused. He didn’t blame her, it was hard being the civilian favorite of the assassin king. Tim knew this well.

Tim knocked on the wooden door, two quick raps. Somewhere deep in his memory, he wondered if this would have been his life, had everything been different; maybe he’d be knocking on Tam’s door before picking her up for a date. Instead, he straightened his shoulders, put on the shy smile Tam thought was his true one, and waited for her. Shuffling on the other side of the door, then a creak as it swung open. Tim glided in, and Tam looked at him with those big brown eyes, her expression tainted with a touch of fear. He didn’t remember her ever being afraid of him before.

“Do you want to go home?” Tim asked. No preamble, just his soft question in the quiet room.

Tam didn’t even think about it first.

“Yes.”

Tim nodded, then drew out a one-way ticket to Archie Goodwin International Airport, leaving tomorrow night. He held it out to her, that soft smile on his face and a promise in his eyes.

Tam tentatively took it, but kept looking at him. “Are you serious?”

“You’re not a prisoner. I’m sorry I couldn’t let you leave earlier, I just wanted to make sure the League was stable first. My intention was always to get you home.”

“Thank you, Tim.”

Tim slipped his hands in his pockets. “You’re my friend. I just want you to be happy.”

Tam pulled him into a hug, and for a second it felt so nice it almost hurt. Then it was over, and he could be comfortably numb again.

“Aminta will be coming with you, just to make sure you get home safe. Once you’re with your family, you won’t have to see any of my… agents ever again.”

Tam nodded, her face screwed up in an effort to keep from crying. He turned to leave and give her privacy, then paused.

“Tam? Thank you. For being my friend.”

Then the king of shadows disappeared into the night, yet again.

Tim frowned at the wall, a small comms unit tucked in his ear. He hadn’t moved from this room in a day, not since Tam and Aminta left.

“Okay, Aminta, I need you to keep close. You said that it’s just Batman and Robin? No Batgirl?”

“Just Batman and Robin. They haven’t spotted me yet. Robin’s really fallen behind since leaving us.”

Tim growled under his breath and carded a hand through his hair. It was getting long again. Who did Ra’s go to for haircuts? Did he just do it himself?

Focus.

The facts were these: Tam had been contacted by Batman and Robin immediately after Lucius Fox gave word that she was home safe. Tim had been expecting this, and Aminta was sent to follow Tam and ensure that the interaction went favorably. Which is to say that no one killed Tam because of what she knew. Aminta was currently hidden on the same rooftop as Gotham’s favorite heroes, listening in on their rendez-vous.

“What’s happening? Report.”

“She’s telling them--why don’t I just play their conversation? I have the capability.”

“Do it.”

A crackling came over Tim’s comm unit for a few brief seconds before it shifted to three familiar voices.

“It’s okay, Tam. Just tell us everything. From the beginning.” That was Dick. He sounded the exact same way he had when Tim left, tired and a little pained. Serves him right. “Yeah, okay,” there was Tam’s voice, slightly higher pitched than normal. “So my dad sent me to find out where Tim Drake was. And I managed to track him down to Iraq. So I’m in my hotel room one night, and I wake up to someone putting a cloth on my nose. Then everything went black, and the next thing I knew I was in this cold stone room. Then this albino guy tells me to stand up and we walk into this big hallway and there’s Tim. And he’s all sweaty and looks super freaked out. Then they brought us to these bedrooms and told us that we’d be staying a while.”

“Why would they take you?” A third voice asked, the snobby tone immediately registering as Damian. The brat.

“I’m not sure. Maybe my search for Tim sent up some flags? No one ever told me.” Her voice cracked a little, and maybe once upon a time, Tim would have felt sorry for her. Not anymore.

“It’s okay, Tam. After you moved into the Cradle, what happened?”

“Tim spent a lot of time training or with Ra’s. He couldn’t tell me much, but apparently Ra’s took a liking to him. One of the inner circle guys turned out to be a traitor, so Tim took his job. I didn’t see him a lot.”

“Who was the traitor?” Damian again, with a hint of anger in his voice. Or was that fear?

“Some computer guy. The Executioner or something.”

“The Expeditor?” It was definitely fear in Damian’s voice. He sounded like a child when he was scared.

“Yeah, him. I just hung around for the most part. They had books. They gave me makeup and nail polish when I asked for it. I was bored, but never threatened.” Tim snorted. Tam knew more than anyone that just because she didn’t have a knife to her neck didn’t mean she wasn’t in danger every moment of the day.

Dick cleared his throat, then spoke again, “Why did Ra’s let you leave?”

Tam went quiet, just for a second.

“Ra’s al Ghul is dead.”

A beat of silence. Tim would have paid millions to watch them right now.

“How?” Damian, his voice filled with fear, and maybe a little pain.

“I-I don’t know. There was an attack by the Council of Spiders. Tim had them lock me in my room with a guard. Some of the girls I talked to said that Ra’s was burned afterward so they couldn’t revive him. No one knew until the day after.” Tam’s voice was shaking now.

“Then where’s Tim?” Dick asked, finally caring about his younger brother after all this time. What a joke.

Tam stuttered a few times, but eventually got the words out. “Tim… Tim’s the new leader. Ra’s named him his heir before he died.”

A hiss sounded over the comms. That had to be Damian.

“Thank you, Tam. I appreciate you answering our questions. You know where to find us if you remember anything else.”

Some shuffling obscured any new words, then Aminta’s voice appeared. “They’re leaving, do you want me to follow them?”

“Yes,” Tim responded, massaging his temples. The whispers were getting louder now, to a point where it was impossible to understand any one message. It was hard when they got like this, harder than when they teamed up. At least then he didn’t feel like a helpless teacher in a rowdy classroom.

Maybe a minute ticked by before Aminta was back. “They just went a few rooftops away. Robin’s clutching Batman’s cape and crying, but it’s like angry crying. He’s mumbling something, but I can’t understand it. Batman’s rubbing his back, but he looks miserable too. Less angry, more sad.”

“That’ll be all, Aminta, thank you. You can return home tomorrow,” Tim sighed. “Our dear friend Tam has done us a favor, so we should be ready for the consequences.”

“What favor? Telling them everything?”

“Not everything. We still have an ace up our sleeve.”

“What advantage could we possibly have, other than knowing that they know?”

“Tam didn’t tell them about my little swim.”

Somewhere, there was a universe where Timothy Drake-Wayne woke up on the morning of his 18th birthday and put on a suit, ready for a day of meetings at whatever company he was interning for before he started college. Maybe he had a party with his family or a date that night. This is what Tim thought about as he busied himself getting ready. He had never been one for birthdays. Jack and Janet were rarely home, and even when they were in Gotham, they had better things to do than celebrate a child. He didn’t blame them. Before he came to the Cradle, he wasn’t worth celebrating.

The ornate mirror in his bathroom showcased his attire: a loose-fitting white shirt, tailored brown silk pants, and a dark green cape that almost resembled snakeskin. Dark circles rimmed his eyes, but he left them. They made the blue stand out. Here was the heir Ra’s had craved so badly. The old Tim would have made a joke about how he looked like a dark prince from a young adult novel, but not anymore. He was the Demon’s Head now. No, not just its head. He was its hands and heart as well. Tim Drake was a demon through and through.

His guests had landed in Iraq the day before, and he had it on good authority that he could expect them that evening.

Tim drifted around the room, preparing for the meeting as one would prepare for battle. His fingertips lingered on the rings he had inherited from his predecessor, and with a deliberate movement he chose the signet ring Ra’s used to wear. He slipped it on and smiled to himself, a snake poised to strike.

Carefully, he patted his wrists, hips, and ankles to ensure his knives were still there. He had always favored batarangs, but he was no longer a bat or a bird. He had left them behind, just as they had left him.

The White Ghost was waiting at his door, ready to escort him to his study. As they walked, Tim absentmindedly ran his thumb over his knuckles. The whispers hissed inaudibly in his ear, wailing for attention.

“Has the room been secured?” He asked, face neutral.

“Yes. I have placed ninjas along the walls and at every access point. Any familiar with the al Ghul child have been sent on missions abroad, though they remain loyal to you.”

“They leave here alive. If they attempt to attack, I want them subdued but not killed.”

“That’s not wise. It will be seen as a show of weakne-”

“Do you think I am weak?” Tim’s voice was as ice cold as he felt.

“No, of course not,” Fadir backpedaled. “But how can you justify it?”

“By the time I’m done, there will be no need to kill them. This is just a courtesy call, a reminder that my prior allegiances are no longer viable.”

Tim swept into the study, his back straight and his jaw square just the way he had always been taught. From birth, he had been raised to be a prince of Gotham, one of the many pretty boys in suits who graced Forbes covers before they could legally drink. He had been bred for greatness, and he achieved it in his own way. Here, no one would ever best him. He was finally free.

Soon you will have everything. All you have to do is make one order.

Tim’s hands shook slightly, but he tightened his grip on his fountain pen as he sat down. The day was full of reports, requests for missions, and invoices. He had been doing most of this paperwork anyway when he was just a lackey, so it wasn’t an inconvenience. It was methodical in its ruthlessness. $750k for a political assassination in France, 40% taken for the League, the rest wired to a private bank account in the Cayman Islands. $25k to kill a cheating spouse in South Africa, the same 40%, and this time headed for a Swiss bank account. A request for a league member to “take care of” an abuser, which Tim set aside. An invoice for new training blades, as the older ones had been dulled. A new Lazarus Pit that was discovered in Iceland.

The sun began to sink outside of his window, and Tim collected himself, drawing the last shards of who he used to be away from the surface. That Tim was dead and gone, and in his place was someone who was finally worthy. If the old Tim was a bleeding heart, this Tim was the knife that stabbed it.

Fadir knocked on the large oak door to signal that their guests had arrived. Tim pushed himself out from behind the desk, pulled back his shoulders, and stalked out of the room, refusing to look back. It wasn’t that he couldn’t show any weakness--it was that he wasn’t weak at all. Not anymore.

Tim walked down the now-familiar hallways, the whispers humming in happiness as others averted their eyes respectfully as he passed by. Aminta stood at the left hand of the large stone throne in the formal hall, and dipped her head in greeting when he approached. Tim took his place on the throne, relaxing into the smooth stone. Fadir took the right-hand side, his hand on his sword’s pommel at all times.

Ninjas lined the walls, all ready for battle at a moment’s notice. Most had been training for decades, long before Tim was even a thought. And now they served him. One lone ninja entered the room, first bowing to Tim and then scurrying up to the throne.

“They have arrived, sir.”

Tim grinned darkly.

“Bring them in.”

Dick looked older than he had eight months ago. His cowl was pulled up to hide his face, but Tim could see it in the set of his jaw. For a man in his late twenties, Dick looked positively weary.

Serves him right.

Damian was stiff, both an heir and a stranger in a child’s body. He glanced at the ninjas placed around the edge of the room, as if searching for a familiar face. He wouldn’t find one.

Tim did not smile when the man he had once considered his brother approached.

“Hello Dick. Damian.” His voice was colder than he ever thought it could be. “You can remove your masks, everyone here knows who you are.” Or they did now.

Dick hesitated for a fraction of a second, then pulled off the cowl. Damian followed suit with a grumble, peeling off his domino.

Satisfied, Tim smoothed a neutral expression onto his face.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” He asked, the words pleasant but the tone as sharp as a blade.

“Is this where you’ve been all this time?” Dick burst out without preamble. It was a shame that he couldn’t exchange pleasantries, even after all of Alfred’s lessons.

“Not exactly. I was in Paris for a bit, caught up with some old friends.” An old friend, one who probably hadn’t even noticed he was gone. None of them had.

You are powerful because you are alone. Others would betray you. You can trust no one. The whispers chimed in, though they were merely repeating what he already knew to be true.

Damian hissed his displeasure, which earned him an evil look from Dick. Look, he’d already been replaced.

“Tim,” Dick began in a gentle voice, the one he used for scared kids. “Come home. We can figure this out. We’ll get you help, maybe even try that therapist I told you about. Or we can shop around, it doesn’t matter. I miss you. I miss my little brother.”

How pathetic.

“Oh, I believe you misunderstood. This is a business meeting, not an intervention,” Tim hummed, examining his fingernails. The cold steel of the knives tucked in his sleeves was a delicious reminder of who he was, who he had always been destined to become.

“In that case, I believe some clarification is in order. Following the death of Ra’s al Ghul, I became the head of the League of Shadows, a position I am very proud of. I will not be returning to Gotham, unless it is for League business, and I will certainly never fight at your side again.

“In truth, Dick, I have not thought about you or your brat once since coming to stay at the League. I understand that our previous relationship may have led you to believe that I would be a naive fool forever, but that is not the case. I have found meaning now more than you could ever dream of achieving.

“Here is my proposition: I will cease training of any assassins younger than age sixteen immediately. I am also currently updating how the League accepts jobs to minimize the amount of innocent casualties. I will waive all rights to Wayne Enterprises, though anything Bruce willed to me will remain mine. In exchange, you leave me and my assassins alone. You will not contact me unless seeking my services. You can keep your Robin, but he lost his birthright a year ago. These are my conditions, and they are non-negotiable.”

The chatty Dick Grayson was speechless. Instead, it was Damian who spoke.

“You stole my birthright.” For a child, he sounded downright murderous.

Tim smiled. “And you stole mine. I believe that makes us even.”

The child nodded, then drew his sword. Along the walls, ninjas drew theirs as well.

“Damian, no!” Dick hissed, glaring at his brother-ward. “Tim, you can’t be serious. We’re family. This is insane!”

Tim’s expression did not display the glee that bubbled in his chest.

“We were family. But you know what they say, the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.” He dismissed Dick’s other accusations with a wave of his hand. “I have given you my terms. You have forty-eight hours to make your decision. Until then, I believe you have overstayed your welcome. You should leave.”

Green pulled at the corners of his vision as the whispers shrieked, begging him to go ahead and kill them. He couldn’t, of course, that would just invite more prying eyes to the League. But he could think about it, and that was enough.

Dick and Damian were almost at the doors when Dick stopped and turned to face Tim, his posture teenagerishly defiant.

“I don’t know who you are anymore,” he spat, as if Dick Grayson had ever truly known Timothy Drake.

Instead, Tim smiled. “I’m the Demon. And you should leave before I make you see Hell.”

A second later, they were gone. Watching them go felt like getting an injection--the pinch lasted for a second, but afterward there was no pain at all.

Demon Demon Demon Demon Demon Demon Demon, the whispers howled as Tim’s blood sang, welcome to your kingdom come.

His hands had always been cold. Ariana used to comment on it all the time--how his touch was borderline freezing. At the time, it had been a running joke: Tim Drake, the boy made of snow, with eyes made of ice and snow-pale skin. It seemed now that even in the heat of the desert, his heart had frozen too.

Nighttime was comfortable in the desert, at least for someone accustomed to Gotham’s climate. Still, the breeze that danced across Tim’s skin left goosebumps in its wake. He couldn’t remember when he’d come out here, let alone what for. He barely even noticed how he gripped the banister of the balcony until his knuckles went stark white.

A little prickle of emotion prodded at his subconscious, but he couldn’t identify it even if he wanted to. There was no room for feelings anymore, if there had ever been. If anything, feelings had gotten him into more messes than out of them.

He had become a vigilante because he felt that Batman needed a Robin. He worshiped the ground Bruce walked on because he felt like Bruce saw him as a son. He broke the rules for Stephanie because he felt as if she could love him. He wanted to be with Conner because he felt that someone finally saw him for who he was. He rejected power time and time again because he felt that it was the right thing to do.

But feelings meant nothing. All that truly mattered was knowledge and wanting. And Tim knew more than ever. And he wanted it all.

Once, he had considered them his family. They had loved him, maybe, but they had never known him. He used to believe in a future spent fighting by their side, but he knew that was a child’s dream now--the same child who believed that he wouldn’t live to see twenty-one. Tim had no such concerns now.

He wasn’t foolish enough to believe that the League was his new family, nor did he need one. But they would not underestimate him or take him for granted. Here, he had respect and power, and that was enough.

The lights of the nearest city glimmered far on the horizon, promising happiness and gaiety somewhere in the night. He smiled, a secret only for him.

One day, you will rule it all, the whispers promised. One day, you will be king. And you will destroy any who stand in your way.

Long live the Demon.

#batfam #dc fanfic #batfam fanfic #batfam big bang 2020 #bbb 2020 #tim drake fanfic #tim drake #ra's al ghul #tam fox #no grave can hold my body down #ngchmbd #my writing #read the warnings

[incorrectbatclan]

Hiiiiii I'm new!!!!! Could you please explain who's who? Who's in the Bat Family, and their backstories please?! ❤️❤️

For this I’ve only done Bruce’s actual like genuinely adopted family (and Alfred) because it was getting really long!! Let me know If you want to hear about the rest and I’ll either make another post or reblog this one and add onto it. I tried my best lol!!

Alfred Pennyworth - Bruce’s batler and kind-of-dad rolled into one, tired, old man who just wants his family to be safe. The best baker, cook and costume creator of the group, absolutely no one can touch him or I Will Cry. Used to be in Her Majesty’s Secret Service before moving to America, so he can kick some ass - I’ve heard different code names for him, the most popular being Agent A or Penny-One, both very good at keeping secret identities secret. 👨‍🦳 /10

Bruce Wayne - This one should be obvs, he’s Batsy. Son of Martha and Thomas Wayne, he was orphaned when they were shot in an alley on their way home one night. He’s also a multi-billionaire due to his company Wayne industries, which you never hear anything about bc all he does is run around dressed in his fursona costume and punch people. Emotionally constipated, but he does love his kids a lot, even if he doesn’t show it. He’s 80 years old this year (2019), what an old man. Get some therapy. Around 40-45? 🦇/10

Dick Grayson - The original Boy Wonder/Robin. An absolutely feral child, and a slightly calmer adult. Was probably responsible for Batcomputer, Batmobile, Batarang, and many others due to his Holy Puns Batman! Born and raised in a circus as a trapeze artist/acrobat until his parents fell and died at any age between 8-12; it changes regularly. After this, he was taken in by Bruce and destroyed every chandelier he had by swinging off of it. When he’d outgrown Robin, he became Nightwing, a name he got from the Kryptonian legend and moved to Bludhaven (Gotham’s little sister city). He’s known as the funny one in the family, but in any other group, he’s the serious one so take that as u will lol. He’s the Robin you’ll see in pretty much any show about DC that has sidekicks in. Has a temper, don’t let fanon fool u. Was also Batman when Bruce died for a little bit before he was found again. Also “””””died”””””” for a bit, worked as a secret agent, back now. Absolutely amazing appalling sense in fashion. Around 24-27? 🕺/10

Cassandra Cain- Daughter of two of the best assassins in the world, and was raised to be a human weapon until she ran after her first assassination at age 8 and lived on the streets until 17 where she became one of Oracle’s agents, and later Bruce took her in and adopted her too. Due to her father’s training, she’s unable to speak with words well, and instead can read peoples body language and movement, often uses sign language to speak instead if the writer’s not a coward. She’s highly skilled in many different ways and is also my fucking child, I love her a lot. She went by Batgirl for a bit, before going by the code name Black Bat. Sometimes Orphan is used but I’m not sure why or in what comics. The cool one. She’s around Jason’s age, maybe younger, probably older. 🥰/10

Jason Todd - The second Robin, now Red Hood. Died angry, came back wrathful. Jason was living in Crime Alley, one of the dingiest places in Gotham, which is where he saw the Batmobile one day, and just decided to rob the wheels. Right there and then. Not only that but when Bruce caught him doing it, he started smacking him with a tire iron. He’s the passionate one, to say the least. Anyway, Bruce saw this kid robbing him and he was like ‘I have to have him’. So he did. For about 3 years maybe, then he died. Bc, he ran off, and the Joker killed him in a warehouse oop-. Anyway, he came back maybe a few years later to find another Robin in his place, and the clown who killed him still kicking, so he went on a murderous rampage, taking the mantle of Red Hood until he calmed down a bit. Now he’s like that angry brother u only see on holidays because Alfred makes him. Under all that anger he’s a sweetheart though, and I’m pretty sure he loves Classical Lit. Sometimes runs around with a group called the Outlaws, members changing regularly, but you have to be a redhead. Bizarro is the exception bc u can’t say no to him. Around 21? 😠/10

Tim Drake- Tim was the son of Bruce’s next-door neighbours, Jake and Janet Drake, often depicted as assholes, bc they literally just leave their kid to go do whatever they want ig????? Anyway, Timmy was like super smart, and when he was young, managed to figure out who Batman and Robin were bc he stalked them and took pictures of them every night. Sneaky. Then Jason died, Bats was like all sad and shit and wasn’t coping well so Tim just knocked on his door and was like ‘Yeah okay make me Robin’, and after maybe the 10th attempt, Bruce did. Anyway, his parents died somehow (the ‘how’ varies) and Bruce was like, yeah okay I’ll have another one. Tim’s a master hacker and he’s all-around baby, mainly bc he doesn’t fucking sleep. Was Dick’s first Robin when he was Batman, before Damian came along and got Robin instead, so he named himself Red Robin because he’s creative and petty like that. Not that I wouldn’t be tbf. Went off to find Bruce when he “died” bc he didn’t believe he was dead, and he wasn’t so like? Anyway, he changed his name to Drake recently, which is stupid so just ignore that. Needs to stop drinking coffee. Around 17? 🐉/10

Damian Wayne-Such a precious little shit. Blood son of Bruce Wayne and the assassin, Talia Ah Ghul, daughter of one of Bruce’s frenemies. He was trained all the way through his childhood to be the perfect sidekick for Bruce, so some of the things he was taught fucked him up a wee bit, but he’s slowly learning that not everything has to be difficult and he is allowed to have fun sometimes. In his eyes for a while, he was Bruce’s only son, because he was the only blood related one. Soon got told to shut up and shown that that wasn’t true. Now secretly loves his family but would die before admitting it. A baby. Became Dick’s Robin after Tim and they ended up being really close and I love them a lot. Absolutely adores animals, and adopts every animal he sees. Just like his father does with kids. Around 13.�� 🐈/10

The others are Kate Kane, Duke Thomas, Stephanie Brown, Barbara Gordon, Jim Gordon and Selina Kyle. A villains list would be quite fun actually too!

Second Post! - Rest of the vigilantes

#Alfred Pennyworth #Bruce Wayne #Dick Grayson #Cassandra Cain #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #Damian Wayne #DC #Batman #Agent A #Penny-One #Nightwing #Batgirl #Black Bat #Orphan #Red Hood #Red Robin #Robin #Jess speaks #batfam #batclan #Bat Family

[kittyanonymity]

Hi yes, I KNOW this isn’t one of my OTHER projects, but this song gives me major Damian and Adrien vibes. I like to think Adrien and Damian could bond over shitty parents, Damian about his mom, and Adrien about his dad. Managed to get this typed up between breaks on ALiG; chapter 6 is making steady progress finally lol This would be a Daminette/Jondrien fic, with Damian and Adrien Bros. 

It won’t let me post the whole song on tumblr for some reason?? So here’s a proper link. 

More below the cut about the particular AU this spawned, as well as the lyrics. 

(also this whole album/band kicks ass, I highly recommend) 

((ALSO ALSO this is actually a Brucelie -BruceXEmilie-fic too))

tw for casual weed smoking mention I guess? and abuse themes definitely

I am your son, you are my mother I'm on my own, you're not my lover Don't tell me how to live

I am your son, you are my father You led us like lambs on our way to the slaughter Who do you think you are?

One, two, three I know you lied to me I can see Now that I'm free

It's me and the black roses  X6 

I am your son, she's not my mother You think she's perfect, to me, just another Do you think it's okay?

But I am your son, for worse or for better Despite the fact that you a homewrecker I guess that's who you are

One, two, three I know you lied to me I can see Now that I'm free

It's me and the black roses  X18

SO the idea here is this. 

Obviously the parts in the beginning about the mother are from Damian’s point of view, and about the oppression he dealt with while in her care. Talia for those who aren’t as into DC is just, WOW levels of awful. She’s controlling, and very much trying to map out all of Damian’s life; and when Damian’s young, he’s fine with this. It’s kind of a classic case of ‘mother knows best’, but at its absolute worst. This starts to change once Damian goes to stay with his father in canon of course. Age Range for Damian: 10 to 12 or so?

The next three lines of lyrics are more from Adrien’s/Chat’s perspective; the ‘lambs led to slaughter’ are Adrien and the rest of the Miraculous team, and it really is about how angry Adrien is at his father for what’s he’s done to his family, and his friends. I imagine in the background during this part Adrien realizing his father is Hawkmoth during the final altercation; Gabriel will try to Akumatize him, and before Ladybug can step in, Chat cataclysms the butterfly, and just starts. BEATING THE HELL OUT OF HIS FATHER. They’re like 18 at this point, and his transformation wears off as he goes to take the Miraculous, and once it does, Gabriel kicks him off. The fight gets ugly, but Ladybug had managed to before this fight, fix the peafowl miraculous. And when she heals Emilie while Chat’s fighting, the woman wakes up in time to see her son go flying. She beats his ass with the assistance of Ladybug. It’s gonna get sappy after that. Ages for this Adrien/Mari: 18; they’ll leave paris 4 years later, to Gotham.

Following that, the next four lines I generally see being from both boys; Damian, once he’s embraced living with his father and brothers, and becoming Robin, reflecting on how his mother was wrong; and Adrien, once his father is in prison and he moves to the states with Marinette, Chloe, and his mother and begins to find peace without the overbearing nature of his father. Maybe there will also be some true Felix and Adrien bonding?? Amelie will definitely show up cause like, holy shit, hr sister is back???! Once again, here’s ages: Mari/Adrien: 22, Damian: 23, Jon: 21

The ‘Black Roses’, for me, can be interpreted in a couple different ways. One, both boys hail from wealth; Adrien as a model, and Damian as both an Al Ghul, and the Wayne heir. Canonically, we know Bruce cultivates roses, and I’d imagine they’re grown in grief; much the same for Adrien, as his father didn’t much care for any flowers until his mother ‘died’. Two, it could just symbolize both boys breaking away from, and grieving, what they never really had; albeit, a bit angrily given the tone of the song. 

And following the first chorus, we dive a little into how Damian feels about Selina, initially. He doesn’t trust her, doesn’t want her around his family, and certainly not around his father, who is, disturbingly, the more stable parent (we all know how fucked up Brucie really is, poor man) the boy’s had. And he maybe resents Bruce a little bit, cause like, why couldn’t he have loved Talia? Why this woman? When Selina and Bruce break up, he’s even more angry because he’d been starting to like Selina and seeing them both hurting is annoying for him. It does pass of course, like things usually do. He’s shocked when Bruce introduces Emilie. It’s hard not to like her though. Selina and Bruce break up when he’s 15, and he meets Emilie when he’s 23.

The next Few lines are once again more Adrien focused, his own reflecting on how he’s his father’s son. By this point in the lyrics, he’s met Jon, and he’s terrified of hurting him how his father hurt Emilie; he doesn’t want to be anything like Gabriel, but the media has done a bit of a number on him the last few years. This is where he and Damian also start to find they have a bit more in common than they thought. 

I like to imagine the last bit of the song is these 2 blessed boys bonding over trauma slowly but surely, feat. Adrien teasing Damian over Mari (because she’s literally everyone’s crush!!), and Damian hissing half threats back to tell Jon about the hearts in Adrien’s notebook. With a guest appearance from!! Overprotective Bros Damian and Adrien with a Visiting Nino, who’s really just happy to have a Third Bro, and So Stoked to be Here. Chloe and Marinette are wondering where they went wrong. Damian teaches Adrien how to deal with trauma in a Better Way, and Adrien teaches Damian how to Be Silly. 

(Three Older Robins are S C A R E D )

AND THIS ISN’T EVEN THE PROPER OUTLINE. 

Ages by the end are all about 23 or so, one moment, math time.... 

Ok, yeah, 23 or so. As fun as it is writing teenagers again, I love writing them as adults because it opens up the door for deeper character introspection, and i am A SLUT for that shit! Plus that means Jason and Tim can smoke weed and no one can tell me otherwise. OOH AND I’M SO EXCITED FOR EMILIE AND ALFRED BONDING!!! THEY’RE BOTH PEACOCKS! I do NOT need another story to write but wow this idea is really growing on me I tell you what. 

And this doesn’t even hardly TOUCH on what Marinette and the girls have been up to in the background because holy shit. A team made of Mari, Chloe, and Emilie with Alya as back up when she shows up, plus Amelie; add in the Wayne girls and it’s CHAOS.

And Bruce, well. 

He can’t remember a time when the manor was so lively; and he surprisingly wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

I might put together a proper outline at some point but who knows lol It’s taken me ages to get the will to type this out; I’ve had this in my head since like October of 2019 I think?? so a few months

also I totally blame the inclusion of Brucilie on @kandoesfanfics-writes or littlekittykanny over on Ao3; I’ve absolutely fallen in love with the way they write Bruce and Emilie and it found its way in there! Thank you for introducing me to this beautiful ship!! <3

see you guys soon hopefully! <3

small tag list cause I think you guys might like this idea :3 

@casualdarkness  @northernbluetongue  @2sunchild2  @ivymala07  @chez-pezeater  @persephonebutkore  @weird-pale-blonde-person  @crazylittlemunchkin  @thequestionablyhuman  @da-tasuky  @vivilakitty  @zerotosiki  @mikantsume  @fandomkitty8  @miraculous786 

#maribat #mlb x dc #daminette #jondrien #I've had this stewing in my head for MONTHS btw #I like the idea of Adrien and Damian being bros #eventually #adrien is still sunshine and damian is still grumpy #but ya know #traumatized versions of that i suppose #maridami

[bigskydreaming]

The Ric Grayson AND Talon storylines both end at the same time, and in the same way:

Great Grandpa Creeper Cobb successfully manipulates Ric into position to be brainwashed and become the Talon that Willie the Weenie has always wanted him to be.....this happens for like, two issues.

Then Grandpa Get Ye To A Graveyard Already fucks up....he accidentally brings Talon Ric within sighting distance of the Court’s latest crop of prospective Talon recruits, including a wee baby ten year old orphan being trained to be a future Talon.

And the essential corn kernel of Dick Grayson’s essence, deep down in his psyche, just fucking POPS like its Orville Redenbacher and someone just nuked it in the microwave.

And the real Dick Grayson comes SHRIEKING to the forefront of Talon!Ric’s brain, nothing subtle about it, and the next thing his Rancid Relative knows, he’s being fucking impaled by his great grandson’s blades as said great grandson, who is SUPPOSED to be docilely brainwashed, wtf, is already halfway across the room, diving into the mass of other Talons like they’re a collection of bowling pins and he’s a wrecking ball straight out of a Miley Cyrus music video, but instead of the caterwauling lyrics “I never hit so haaaaaaaard in love,” Dick’s accompanied by a soundtrack of him screaming:

“I WILL PROTECT YOU SMOL CHILD!!!”

As said smol child is just standing there, staring, like....dude, wut?

And then Dick finishes absolutely DESTROYING everything undead and nefarious in sight like he’s the Tasmanian Devil on meth, and he turns to said smol child and begins the process of Smothering, as his hands flutter all up and down checking for injuries but not touching, like: 

“Did they hurt you are you alright you’re safe now cough once for I’m all good or punch me in the no-no’s if I’m making you feel unsafe, I will make sure you are totally safe from here on out, you are my baby now, I have decided, but like, only if you want to be.”

And smol child is decidedly overwhelmed but Man-Who-Speaks-Like-He-Has-Pixie-Sticks-In-Place-Of-Blood-Vessels seems harmless, if weird, and is definitely preferable to the weird Bird Men who kidnapped him off the streets and tried to teach him how to kill people and make death threats out of nursery rhymes. And he doesn’t have a lot of experience in OTHER subterranean lairs to compare this one too, but he’s decidedly not a fan, so when Dick asks if he would like him to take him to see Batman and Batgirl and Robin and other superheroes who can also reassure him there will be no more homework on How To Torture People Good, he’s like....”yeah I guess. If you want.”

And so Dick scoops him up with glee and takes off through the tunnels, yelling back over his shoulder: “Bye Greatly-Gross-Grandpa, hate you lots, don’t call, don’t write, you’re officially off my Christmas card list, hasta la neeeeeeeeeever.”

Thereupon swiftly grappling across the Bludhaven rooftops, yelling PARKOUR! just because he can and its fun, and its weirdly relaxing for his wee passenger, because look, this dude may be weird as fuck, but he’s clearly got the moves to protect him from the Undead Legions of Ornithologists and he seems too....fun to be evil, like not in the Joker kinda way like he’s seen on TV in previous foster homes where its like, jeez dude, try hard much, but more like an adult who just quit a soul-crushing cubicle-dwelling corporate-craphole job and has suddenly been reminded that the sky is blue, flowers smell good, and there IS a Santa Claus, Virginia.

Thus by the time they arrive at Wayne Manor, with no attempt made to hide where they’re going from his wee passenger’s eyes - Dick has already decided he’s keeping the kid, pending said kid’s approval but look, kids like him and he’s determined to bring his A game to the pitch meeting, so he likes his chances - said wee passenger disembarks in the Batcave but stays close by, clinging to Dick’s side in an ever so slight way that allows for plausible deniability later, once he gets his bearings and also his bravado back.

“Dick?!” Comes the chorus of voices from the rest of the family, who are all there already, by great coincidence and in great defiance of the crapfests in their own individual titles, but also who the fuck cares. And Dick puffs out his chest, cuz he’s putting on a good show for his new kiddo, first impressions are important...

“Tis I, fam! The one true Dick Grayson has returned! Huzzah!”

Look, being completely oblivious to his Greatest Dork Energy coinciding with his Times He Most Attempts To Be Impressive, is like, Peak Dick Grayson characterization, you can trust me, I’m a doctor. 

And Tim’s like, “Why are you dressed like a Talon?”

And Dick’s like, “Isn’t the better question why AREN’T you dressed like a Talon?”

Which makes no sense but shhh, I’m running out of steam here, don’t question the atmosphere, just let it be.

And Bruce is like, “Who’s your friend?”

With like...designs and agendas already in mind, because said wee Talon-to-be is cute and adorable and bravely trying to act like he is not at all intimidated by his surroundings and is in total control of what’s going on like, he meant to be here, this is all according to plan, yes, excellent, everything is progressing nicely....

Which as everyone knows, are the three key essential traits Bruce looks for in prospective adoptees....

So Dick snarls and later blames it on residual Talon-ness, they’re very territorial bird...assassin....people....anyway, the adrenaline is still high and also he has swiftly become attached because whether kiddo knows it or not, Dick 100% credits him with the brainwash-breaking and thus when factored in with the cuteness quotient, what we have here is an instant recipe for Protectiveness slash Possessiveness that would be creepy and inappropriate if this wasn’t pure crack. 

But crack it is, and thus Dick curls a protective arm around the kiddo like the lap-bar on a particularly turbulent roller coaster and applies G-Force sufficient to keep even Superman from prying him out of his hands - but in a gentle, non- ’crushing kinda way that might hurt the kiddo,’ even though physics doesn’t work like that, except look, these are CRACK PHYSICS, they can and they do work like that. 

And he’s all, “I already adopted him, so back off, Bruce, I’ll cut you. But also hi dad, I missed you. In spirit I mean, like I had amnesia and then I was brainwashed so technically its probably a reach to say I missed anyone but just roll with it. Also I can haz hugs now, please?”

And then Damian apparates in front of Dick amid a cloud of Disapproval that’s really just a cover for OMG-I-Was-Without-You-And-It-Was-Terrible-And-I’m-So-Glad-You’re-Back-But-Also-Who-Is-This-Interloper-And-Why-Is-He-Stealing-My-Hug.

“Tt. Grayson. Your absence was...less than desirable. See to it that this doesn’t happen again. Also what is that and why is it here.”

“Aww, Dami, I’m sorry. I promise to install a “please have the nearest available psychic reboot my brain in case of future brain damage slash amnesia” clause in my living will, and soon as I get a free second, I’ll break the fourth wall and blackmail the DC editorial staff into declaring me off-limits for all death, brainwashing and/or kidnapping plots for at least the next four major crossover events. I have naughty pictures. They’ll cave.”

“Hmph,” Dami says. He resumes staring pointedly at the kiddo, who juts his chin defiantly and stares back while clinging more tightly to Dick, because he may have very little clue what’s going on, but he’s a quick one and has at least picked up on the fact that Dick wants him and this other kid wants Dick. Which combined with the rescuing and the kicking of bad guy ass means Dick is probably Quality and In Demand and Of Value, and thus he might as well stake a claim now and worry about whether or not to act on that or skedaddle later, once he’s got more intel. He’s a natural Bat, this one, but then, that’s probably why he was in Toddler Talon Boot Camp, he scored high on whatever weird aptitude tests they used to scope out talent, and by talent we mean murder-skills.

“Dami,” Dick admonishes then, “This isn’t an it, he’s a person, and he was recently traumatized so promise me you’ll be on your best behavior or at least your ‘engaging in shenanigans with Jon’ behavior. And he’s not competition, you’re my Dames and my little bro, and he’s potentially your nephew, which is a whole separate category and no threat to you and your baby bro status at all, so retract the claws. If anything, the real danger is Pops adopting him and thus supplanting you as the official Baby Bird of our generation, so make like an ally and help me get that dangerous “I’m gonna adopt this kid so hard” gleam out of Bruce’s eye before it gets any gleamier. We’re still only halfway through my tearful reunion and having to cut Dad before we even get to cake would be a major mood-killer, but I’ll do it, I swear. Also, get your Baby Bird behind over here and hug me already, I have two arms.”

Damian rolled his eyes but obediently disappeared and reappeared nestled against Dick’s other side in the blink of an eye. The proper application of ninja skills has always been the pursuance of hugs and cuddles. Thus sayeth the crack.

“Hey, I do get cake, right?” Dick asked suddenly, looking around dangerously. “I was amnesiac and also brainwashed, I deserve cake, TELL me there’s gonna be cake.”

“Well that answers whether or not we should be worried about this being an attempted infiltration or not,” Jason says, strolling over casually. “No impostor or brainwashing script-writer could ever duplicate the Essence de Dick so perfectly. Hey squirt. Welcome to the madhouse. I’m Jason, what’s your name?”

“Oh right,” Dick realized, cocking his head. “Hey, what is your name?”

“Really, Dick?” Tim sighed, fondly exasperated. “I realize you like to jump from A straight to Z whenever possible, but steps B through Y aren’t usually just mere suggestions.”

“It hadn’t come up yet,” Dick defended himself.

“Yes, why would it have,” Duke mused from where he was leaning over and snapping his fingers in front of Bruce’s eyes, in a futile attempt at tearing his gaze away from the viable adoption candidate within 20 meters from him. It was probably best that they get this adoption thing inked out and signed off on as soon as possible - it was the only thing that was definitively going to get that “Argh, I’ve spotted treasure ahoy” look out of Bruce’s eyes. And Alfred had been very clear :Bruce was forbidden to adopt any more kids himself until he got a better handle on juggling the six he already had. Which. The past year had...probably not met Alfred’s standards on, so it didn’t seem likely he’d be waiving that requirement any time soon. 

(And nobody wanted to get in between the Unstoppable Force that was Bruce’s ‘must adopt all the orphans’ and the Immovable Object that was Alfred’s ‘must maintain at least a reasonable fascimile of order in this household, even if it is a total sham, appearances matter.’)

“Hey!” Dick protested. “I’ve been busy, okay? There was fighting and then there was parkouring and now we’re reunifying, and it wasn’t like I was just calling him ‘that kid’ in my head, I was calling him ‘my kiddo’ which is a perfectly reasonable identifier and thus more specific detail just....hadn’t been relevant yet!”

“So uh, bee tee dubs, what is your name, buddy?” Dick asked, looking down. His kiddo looked back up at him for a long, measuring moment, and then he shrugged.

“I’ll tell you in exchange for some cake. You said something about there being cake, but I don’t see any.”

Dick got misty-eyed at that. “See? He already prioritizes like me. This was destiny! Also, you heard my kiddo, do we not deserve cake? It has been a very long day, there was murder and mayhem and more. Also, my creeper great grandpa was there being icksome, and you know how much that weirds me out.”

“Come along, Master Dick,” Alfred said then, appearing out of nowhere thanks to his Bat-Butler Magic. “And your young charge as well. I already have your favorite baking in the oven and it should be done shortly. Lemon meringue with raspberry layers.”

“That’s disgusting and I will not participate in any ceremony that treats that as part of a celebration instead of just a weird kind of laxative,” Jason said loftily, though it escaped no one’s notice that he was the first to the stairs.

“Shut your facehole, its delicious and amazing and you will like it or I will kick your ass,” Dick said, equally loftily.

“Boys,” Bruce said with a long-suffering sigh, as the threat of brotherly bloodshed was enough to finally shake him out of his orphan-induced stupor.

“At MARIO KART. I will kick his ass at MARIO KART, ugh, jeez, B, why do you always assume the worst of us?”

“Precedent,” Tim said dryly.

“Who the hell asked the Oompa Loompa Brigade to weigh in with all ninety of his pounds?” Jason called back from the top of the stairs. 

Cass came up on Dick’s left, where the kiddo was one half of the sandwich made by him and Damian on Dick’s other side. She smiled down at him when he directed his still very wide-eyed gaze at her, landing on her after his latest sweep of the cavern and all its contained chaos, as if trying to take it all in - most likely in the hopes that if he could manage that, somehow the last 72 hours of his life might suddenly make sense. He really was adorable.

“Don’t worry,” she beamed at him, reaching out to pat him comfortingly on his shoulder, right above where Dick’s arm was still curled around it like a warm blanket - albeit one with the tensile hold of a python. “They’re all crazy, but only in the good ways.”

Duke scoffed as he slipped ahead of them and started taking the stairs two at a time. “It’s funny how you say that like you’re some kind of exception to the rule.”

“Bold words, little brother,” Cass called after him. He only shouted back from the top in a booming voice, his words echoing down the narrow stone stairway dramatically.

“Am I not Batclan?”

“Oooh, is that a new thing we’re doing?” Dick asked excitedly. “Somebody catch me up, I demand context. I smell a story there.”

“It was Jason’s fault,” Tim said automatically. Dick nodded.

“Sure, that tracks. Continue.”

Bruce trailed after his brood of batlings and birdlets, sidling over to where Barbara was waiting for the elevator. The latter having hung back to watch the commotion with the air of one taking notes for repurposing in the form of future blackmail material. Her ever extending network of spies and informants made so much more sense, suddenly.

He cleared his throat while they listened to the hum of the elevator’s machinery as it descended to their level.

“I wasn’t really thinking of adopting the boy,” he said. Not at all sullenly, nor with a trace of defensiveness to be found.

“Of course you weren’t, Bruce,” Barbara said. She patted his arm fondly, with all the conviction of a kindergarten teacher whose student was attempting to claim innocence on the matter of a paint disaster perfectly matching the paint stains on his hands.

“I wasn’t,” Bruce muttered as she preceded him into the elevator. 

Why did nobody ever believe him?

[incoherentbabblings]

Unspoken Promises

Sitting on the car roof waiting for Zatanna to show up, Stephanie became acutely aware of how their leaving home must have looked to the rest of the family, and makes her think about what want from the future, especially after everything had come crashing down in the aftermath of Brother Eye and the Batman of Tomorrow.  Tim for once isn’t thinking too deep about it.  

2,500 words on Tim and Steph cuddles from YJ #5. AO3 Link here!

So for all my doubt about Bendis (He also liked my tweet I sent him thanking him for making TimSteph so cute so like… that gave me a whump of validation right there) I was so over the moon with his interpretation of Tim and Stephanie’s relationship that it actually got me to write fanfiction for the first time in about a decade (ooft).  I am following in the grand DC tradition of what is continuity in that I am writing as if the Bat’s History is all in tact, but YJ and Teen Titans is just what had been established in the New 52.  How does that work? It doesn’t but never mind that I wanted to write mush

Anyway here is Tim I look at my girlfriend as if she hung the stars at night Drake and Stephanie We have 100% ran away from home which means we are 100% eloping which means yes I will marry you no you don’t even have to ask Brown.

There are like…so many references to past and current stories and dialogue in this, as well as my previous babblings on their relationship.  

Anyway, enjoy!!!

He had a habit, she’d noticed, ever since they’d been together, of holding her face. His fingers had always been cold, but dry, and his palm fit neatly along her jawline. He was always soft with her, and she wouldn’t dare have it otherwise.  When she isn’t talking, and he isn’t smiling and humming indulgently at her wittering on, he seemed to be nothing more than quite content to just hold and stare at her. Like the sun is infused in her hair. Like her and her alone is immune to the anti-life equation, like she is life’s meaning. Like she is so precious that she might be gone the next morning.

 Because that did happen once, when she was left to die without him. Does Tim hate me? She had asked Batman. No. Bruce had replied. He adores you. Always has.

Only now with them lying on the bonnet of Tim’s red car, his stare so openly reverent, Stephanie found herself trusting Bruce’s statement to the dying girl with a broken body (and heart).

He’d been taken from her too, violently and so suddenly that she had found herself talking to a clay program of his, so starved for his face and hungry for his advice… Then again Stephanie had heard from other sources that he’d considered throwing what he’d thought was her corpse into a Lazarus Pit, so maybe they were both reliant on the other to act as a guide.

Those Batmen she’d seen, first the one from a future where she was either dead or under what seemed like permanent house arrest (it wasn’t clear), and then one made of corrupt dreams and corrupt computer programs… They were ones she’d silently promised herself that she would reel in within Tim whenever they reared their ugly, twisted heads. She’d remind him, remind them why they wanted to help people. The two of them didn’t know any other way, not anymore.

How stubborn they were that they scraped their way back to each other.

Stephanie soon grew shy being gazed at by Tim and leaned forward.  One hand tightened in his sweater, whilst the other cupped the back of his head. He quickly got the idea and leaned forward, their lips touching briefly for a moment before she readjusted her position, straddling one his legs to get a firm pressure between her own.

Tim’s smile turned cheeky then, and he began to push up into a sitting position.  Stephanie gave a slight grunt, and forced him back down, hand slipping down his top to grip at his hip. She kissed him deeply.

A bird took off near the car, disturbing some fallen leaves on the ground.  It was still warm enough at sunset to not have to wear a coat, and both of them had opted for oversized sweaters, Steph in her customary purple, Tim in his usual green.  They had been travelling for a few weeks now, enough for the new school year to have started, and yet here they both were, several states down, in DC, nowhere near Ivy University in New England.  The thought made Stephanie giggle.

“Now you have to admit it!” She exclaimed, thumping her head down to rest on Tim’s chest, listening to his heart beat.  Solid.  Warm.

Tim meanwhile was looking awfully smug, one arm cradling her shoulders, pressing their already entangled bodies closer, the other arm thrown up behind his head.  His eyes were shut, and he was smirking.

“I don’t have to admit anything.” 

“Admit it!”

“I was raised by Batman, Stephanie,” – and right on que her eyes rolled up to her skull.  Batman Batman Batman – “I am a stubborn master.”

“Admit we ran from home!”

That got him to open his eyes and stare at her once more.  He was indulging her again, she knew, and she let him do so.

“A Batgirl and a Robin told everybody we were going off to college and then we drove the other way.”

��Because we’re in the middle of an investigation into the –”

She interrupted him, whispering the phrase “Nobody knows where we are!” conspiratorially, as if they weren’t sitting outside one of the most heavily monitored buildings in the county.  But sure, they were definitely back in New England, studying at one of the country’s most prestigious universities.

Not that they didn’t leave with the purest intentions, this investigation into timelines and universes…  However neither had the foggiest clue where to start.  Tim had recalled Dick and Bruce talking of Wally, the idea that something or someone been messing with time or memories. To avoid Bruce catching wind of what they were up to, they had asked Black Canary, and Dinah had suggested magic, which had led them to Zatanna.

Tim knew Bruce knew they weren’t at college.  He just didn’t want Bruce to know why.  This trip was partially for him and Steph to be alone.  Properly.  Without Bruce and his weird secrets and mind games. Without the pressure of fighting crime each night with all its mental and physical traumas.

Without Cassandra bursting through their window with takeout after a night of training, catching Steph in her nightshirt and Tim with his pyjama bottoms halfway up his legs. 

It had been going well, as well as could be expected of two seventeen-year olds going on a targetless road trip.  Tim had enough money to his name to keep them going for more than enough time, and Stephanie didn’t want for much regardless. 

Still, this trip had a purpose, and they both hoped that speaking with Zatanna would orient them in the right direction. 

“I’m just saying,” Stephanie continued, now grinning back at Tim’s softening smile “The only thing missing is the circus for us to join.”

It was almost funny how their conversations always came back to their future together.  They were still so young but they always spoke of what their lives would be, could be, five, ten, fifteen years down the line. 

Not that the circus was a serious suggestion, but it made her point all the same.  They had split off from the family back home, deliberately gaining some distance.  They’d not spoken to Bruce since he’d waved them off, hearing that they’d get the official wedding invite ‘any day now’ (any day now had been going on for weeks at this point, both were afraid to enquire for an update).  They’d not heard from Dick in even more time (something was going on with the Titans, on and off the field, but Tim hadn’t chased it).  Damian and Jason were enigmas as usual to them (coming and going as they pleased).  They’d get the odd photo and message sent from Cass and Duke and Barbara, the three of them seemed to be forming a little huddle, but for the most part, it was radio silence.  Maybe Bruce had encouraged it for once.  Leave them alone.  Let them be teenagers.  They can figure it out if they want to do the superhero gig on their own.

Or maybe that was too forgiving of an assumption of Bruce.

The other day Stephanie had been filming Tim being a dweeb, and she had muttered about making their (hypothetical) children watch this so they could be assured that their (hypothetical) father was never once cool ever.  Tim had just laughed and argued that she was just as bad as he, she was only better at covering it up.  He didn’t flush at the mention of children, and he didn’t call out at her statement at all.  It was a quiet assumption between them, the idea of children (plural.  Both had been so lonely growing up they couldn’t bear the thought of repeating their parents’ mistakes).  An unspoken promise never confirmed aloud.

Seventeen years old and they were already thinking of when they’d be thirty five.  Maybe one near (actual?) death experience each made them grip to that future tightly.  They would have it all.  They would help people until there was no longer a need for them to do so anymore, upon which they could bow out, ready to drop the double-faced world they occupied.

It had been temporary for Tim, initially.  He didn’t so much as want to be Robin as he was at the only one who could be Robin. 

It had been temporary for Stephanie, initially.  She couldn’t let her father go on hurting people, and she was at first the only one who knew what weird, over the top schemes he’d managed to cobble together. 

It was supposed to be temporary, for both of them. 

I can make it all work.  I can make a system that can sustain itself… After all that, I can take care of myself.  Take care of us.  I promise.

 And yet that promise he’d made aloud, mere hours before everything had blown up in their faces – literally – had been a rude awakening that their line of work didn’t allow easy early retirements, not truly. 

That was okay though, not today didn’t mean not ever, or at least, that’s what they had both told themselves at night sleeping in assorted cheap hotels.  The receptionists had always given them funny looks, no doubt Tim and Stephanie probably did look like young eloping teenagers.  Tim had surprised Stephanie in his reaction to their expressions, putting his foot down when affirming yes we want a double bed no not twin singles.  When checking out in the morning Tim defiantly left the bed an unmade mess, as if they were a pair of rabbits who couldn’t get enough of each other, as if trying to earn that slightly disapproving look from across the counter. 

She thought maybe he was tired of people giving their opinion on the two of them being together. 

And ultimately, that is what they were wasn’t it?  Teenage sweethearts running away from home.

And to the circus, if that’s what it came down to.

Stephanie’s buzzing phone and Zatanna’s arrival had brought an end to the feeling of joviality.  Stephanie’s thoughts were being torn in two directions.  She couldn’t stand the thought of her father running around doing as he pleased, and she had a sudden sharp stab of fear for her mother, but she had just reaffirmed that she was staying with Tim come hell or high water.  Tim made the decision for her.  He knew she wouldn’t be focused going forward unless she chased down her father, so gave the both of them a three day deadline. 

“You’ll be focused and I’ll have a start.” He stated.  He was dressed in his uniform, looking somehow both dashing and fragile at once.  What he thought he knew had been shaken again, except for the blonde girl standing in front of him.  The one who was looking at him with a slightly befuddled but still endeared smile. 

“I love you Tim Drake.” She said, ignoring for a moment where they were and what he was dressed as. 

There was a beat of silence.  Enough to make Stephanie uncomfortable.  He had usually always been the first to declare it to her.  Now that she had uttered it first, he seemed at a loss on how to respond.  She decided to prompt him, trying not to sound too desperate when she asked:

“Did you hear –?”

“I’m madly in love with you, Steph.”  He blurted out.  His smile widened until he looked overjoyed.  “I was just about to tell you that.  I was going to tell you I was so happy you were in my repressed memories, too, because I didn’t want – ”

A life without you was how he was going to finish his declaration before she threw herself at him, smacking a kiss on his lips, and Tim saw his world go pink for a moment.

He had been relieved that she’d been in those memories.  She had to have been.  She was the only one, for so long, who knew him as both Robin and Tim.  The Teen Titans had asked and asked but he’d always been so reluctant to cave in, whilst part of his fear of leaving the title of Robin would mean losing Bruce and Dick and Barbara, for what possible reason could Tim Drake have to associate with them?  It was different now, he was Bruce’s adopted son, so their connection could not be severed regardless of him wearing a mask or not, and he had opened up to his friends, slowly but surely. 

She was still the person he wanted to be with him every step of the way.  She’s never cared what title he’d held, she’d cared more about the way he held her.  This was his chance though.  She had always been stuck on the fringes of their generation, not having many close friends outside of Gotham.  If his friends and family could become hers… he just wanted her with him every step of the way.  It was selfish of him he knew, but she deserved a better family than the one she’d been born into, and he had the opportunity to give it to her.

She was gripping the front of his uniform tightly, and he was holding her shoulders.  Leaning forward, he put their foreheads together with a gentle thunk.  Still smiling, he reminded her of the three day deadline.

“Two days.” She pushed.

“Promise?” He looked at her, and she smiled guiltily.  How many broken promises had they made to each other?  How many had they kept?  How many had remained unspoken, for fear of them never coming true? 

“I can’t.” Stephanie exhaled unsteadily, her eyes tearing up. 

He didn’t sound disappointed when he responded, “I know.”  He understood.  Better than anyone he understood the danger of promises and oaths. 

For a brief moment she longed for them to forget responsibilities and be utterly selfish.  Run away to the circus like she’s joked.  Confirm every suspicious look those receptionists had given them for the past four weeks.  Leave behind broken families who didn’t know what good communication meant between the lot of them and start a newer better family in its place.  It was a whim that would remain in her head, but she answered the question she would sit and wait for over the next twenty years if need be out loud, as both a promise to Tim and to herself.

“…But I do.”

Tim didn’t say anything more in response, but looked up at her, his forehead still pressed to hers, and breathed a laugh.  He knew what she’d meant when she’s said I do, of course he figured it out, but he also knew to let it remain out of context.  Another unspoken promise. 

They’d be fine.  More than fine.  He would find his friends and he would take care of them.  They’d scraped their way back to each other for a reason. He couldn’t let her, or Conner or Cassie or Bart or any of the others, slide by any longer.

Another unspoken promise. 

#dc #timsteph #tim drake #stephanie brown #this is super self-indulgent so please indulge me... #my fic tag

[sassycassie-s-series]

All My Fault 18

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC, BatFam - Damian Wayne/Batman

Rating: PG

Notes: (Masterlist) And here we see just a tiny bit of what time displacement would feel like when it wasn’t significant enough that everyone you know and love is gone. Imagine just getting thrown eight years into your own future. Yikes. I’m so excited for next chapter y’all. Like, you have no idea.

Tag List (Open): @batboys-and-other-messes  @probsjosh​ @simply-x-nanna  @spooder-moon @welovegroot

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, Ch 13, Ch 14, Ch 15, Ch 16, Ch 17

^^^^^

I slouched in the desk chair in the Batcave, completely alone for the first time in a while. Tim and Bruce had gone with Alfred into the Wayne Enterprises building for something—they seemed to be doing that a lot—and Dick had gone into the precinct for work. Jason was somewhere. Damian was somewhere. Cass was still on her mission, though she was scheduled to come home soon.

I peered over all the windows displayed in front of me on the Bat-computer. “Wow,” I mumbled with a heavy sigh.

“Something wrong?” Damian asked, descending the stairs.

I twirled around in the chair to face him. “No. It’s just weird,” I said, indicating to the open programs on the massive monitor behind me. “I looked up all my old high school friends. Every single one of them except one is married. The one that’s not married has a doctorate in environmental engineering. Five of the ones that are married have at least one kid. They’re all twenty-nine with well-established adult lives. And I’m… here. Still twenty-one.” I scratched my nose. “It’s just weird that one split-second decision to say goodbye to the boys I consider my brothers caused me to miss so much.”

Damian sighed and leaned against the desk with his hips, arms folded over his chest and facing away from the screen. “Tt. It’s my fault,” he said. “I offered. I thought it would take five minutes. A simple trip here. A simple trip back to your past.”

“I'm grateful, though,” I said thoughtfully.

Damian looked at me, almost alarmed. “Grateful? You’ve missed nearly a decade! Your friends have moved on without you. Your family company went through a scandal when you were supposed to be leading it. How can you be grateful to me for this?” he demanded, sounding disgusted at himself.

I contemplated his face calmly, resting my elbows on the computer desk—that was really more of a console—and propping my chin up on my knuckles. “Certain points in time are fixed,” I said. “It’s a multiversal constant that in any universe and any timeline that Jason Todd meets a certain Bruce Wayne who’s Batman, Jason Todd will die.”

I glanced over at the computer screen full of records of my old friends and then back to his eyes.

“Maybe me going missing was a constant too—a fixed point in the multiverse and every timeline in it. Maybe if you’d returned me as was planned, I’d go missing some other way before I could even see thirteen-year-old you again. Maybe I’d actually get lost in the time stream. At least this way, I went missing for eight years, shaped the lives of those I left behind in some way, and came out the other end alive and well,” I continued.

Damian stared at me, and then looked over his shoulder. “Would you care to see any of your friends?” he asked. “I assume they are aware of your return.”

I sighed again and looked down at my hands. My knuckles were scabbed from patrol. My knuckles were always scabbed from patrol. “I think they know. I got a couple DMs from them on social media welcoming me back, but I'm sure they’re all busy. Maybe some other day.”

Damian turned his eyes back to me. “Are you certain?”

“Yeah. I'm not up to it today,” I decided. “They’ll understand.”

Damian just stared for a moment. “Alright,” he relented. “However, should you change your mind, I would be happy to accompany you.”

“Thanks Dami,” I said, closing all the windows on the computer because if I looked any more I’d definitely start crying. My friends had kids. I was supposed to be there for that. As an only child, my friends were my siblings. I was supposed to be a fairy godmother to those kids from the moments they were born. Maybe even an actual godmother. I’d missed it.

Better late than never, I reminded myself. Once you get your life back together in this future, you can be there for those kids.

I got up from the computer, standing very close to him. I could have put the desk chair between us and gotten up on the other side, but I hadn’t. Instead, I stood within inches of him and held my arms out to my sides, palms facing him just in front of my body, silently asking for a hug.

He accepted without protest, wrapping his arms around me and putting his nose in my hair. I guessed if anyone else were around he wouldn’t have. But we were alone, and he knew me well. When I wanted comfort, I wanted a hug. I was grateful he was willing to give one to me when no one else was around (meaning Dick—who didn’t need to be asked). Sure, he’d hugged me when he turned up my age in the past where I was from, but I’d brushed that off as relief at seeing me alive again after eight years. This was just a hug because I wanted one.

He smelled good. Something I had a hard time placing. Spices I thought—with a slight scent of paint clinging to his shirt. He was warm and strong and his hug felt comforting.

When I pulled away, I smiled at him. “Thanks,” I said.

He blinked. “For… what?”

“Giving me a hug. Remember, thirteen-year-old you would barely let me touch him. No hand-on-shoulder, no hair-ruffling, no nudges with an elbow—nothing,” I said.

He glanced down at his shoes. “Tt. I'm over that now,” he said, tutting more at himself than me. “I was so concerned with being the one true Robin and better than Batman in every way that I pushed others away. Took me up until very recently to dismantle that.”

I tilted up onto my tiptoes. “You’re still a better Batman,” I whispered. “Don’t tell Bruce.” Pursing my lips into a tight but cheeky grin, I winked, twisted on the ball of my foot, and trotted towards the stairs. I could feel Damian’s eyes boring into the back of my head—whether from surprise that I’d say that or still trying to process what I’d said I wasn’t sure—as I went up the stairs and back into the manor.

^^^^^

I paused outside Bruce’s study, book clutched so tightly in my hands that my knuckles were white and the pages creaked.

“—two years, Master Wayne,” Alfred was saying. “Don’t let her get dragged into all of this. Once she’s eighteen she’ll be able to make her own life, safe from this one. Unlike your other children, she wasn’t selected by you. Her parents chose you to be her guardian in the event of their death. She was placed in your life, not brought in.”

“Alfred, she’s just like Dick when I took him in, just older. She’s grieving and needs somewhere to put it.”

“I disagree,” Alfred said.

“Besides,” Bruce continued, “there’s no way any of the kids could keep their comings and goings secret from her for two years. And she has extensive martial arts training from Lyle’s insistence on his little girl being able to defend herself.”

“Master Wayne, she’s innocent of this life. You made Master Dick your partner so he could become well-adjusted to his loss. Master Jason took it up so he could channel his emotions. Master Tim made himself your partner more than anything. And Master Damian was a special case. As was Miss Cassandra.”

“Alfred, you know her. You saw how she was when her parents were alive. She may have a bright and happy personality but she’s sharp as a tack and stubborn as a bull—about as strong as one too. She needs some sort of structure.”

“Allow her to have that with her education,” Alfred said.

“Hrn. The education system is a mess. It’ll stamp out her passion like a team of horses,” Bruce said. “Two years, Alfred. And then she’s free to make her life her own if she wants.”

I gathered my courage and knocked on the door, wondering what on Earth they were talking about and also not wanting to know. They were talking about me, but what other life were they meaning? What was going on? I didn’t know if I wanted to know.

Bruce opened the door. “Hello Nora,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

I held the book in my hands out. “Tim said I could probably find Alfred here. I was wondering if he could give me a hand with this homework assignment. I wrote the essay, I just wanted to have another set of eyes read it and Dick said Alfred was good at that…” I trailed off, turning red and looking down.

“Of course, child,” Alfred said, exiting the office. “I would love to go over your essay with you. It would be a much-needed relief of the rest of the drama in this house.” He put his hand on my shoulder and steered me back down the corridor of the huge house towards the room I’d been given. “Miss McCloud, I'm not going to pretend that you didn’t hear anything that just transpired, however, I will encourage you to forget you heard it. You’re safer that way,” Alfred commented.

“Uh… right,” I said.

^^^^^

That was one of my first nights in the manor, before I knew that Bruce Wayne and Batman were the same person. I remembered being so confused and almost scared about what they were talking about before Bruce got his way and introduced me to the vigilante life. I appreciated Alfred sticking up for me and trying to keep me safe, but I liked being Cloudburst. It didn’t help me with my grief too much, but it did distract me when I didn’t feel like working through it.

Now, five years later (to me), I still missed my parents but I no longer mourned them.

I flopped onto my bed and looked up at the ceiling for a moment, thinking about my friends. Married with kids most of them, higher education degrees finished… and I was still practically a child to them. I couldn’t guarantee that they’d be more mature than I was, but they had eight more years of life experience.

I wondered if they’d still like me. Or if they’d see me as immature since my bright, playful personality was still intact. People didn’t change that much, did they?

Next

#All My Fault #Chapter 18 #All My Fault Chapter 18 #Damian Wayne #Damian Wayne Imagine #Damian Wayne FanFiction #Robin #Robin Imagine #Robin FanFiction #Batman #Batman Imagine #Batman FanFiction #BatFam #BatFam Imagine #BatFam FanFiction #DC #DC Imagine #DC FanFiction

[sassycassie-s-writing]

To Be Happy - Summer (Fin)

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC, BatFam, SuperFam - Jason Todd/Red Hood & Conner Kent/Kon-El/Superboy

Rating: PG-11 (violence)

Original Idea: Part 1 Summer, Part 2 Autumn, Part 3 Winter, Part 4 Spring

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) This one is a bit longer than the others! It’s also the last part! @welovegroot

^^^^^

Approximately Four Years Later…

^^^^^

June 14, 7:15AM

Red Hood peered over the town, chewing the inside of his cheek under his helmet. Mt. Justice, to the north, stood like a mighty statue. It loomed over the nearby town—a silent protector.

Red Hood scoffed at the thought. “Sure. Leave the protecting of innocent civilians to a bunch of kids. What was the League thinking?” he muttered under his breath. After another moment of regarding the town from his vantage point on the hills to the south, he cracked his knuckles. “Well. I guess it’s now or never. If I don’t go see her now I never will.”

^^^^^

June 14, 9:10AM

I woke up to a hand gently running the backs of fingers down my face. I groaned in complaint at being woken up and peeled my eyes open.

I wasn’t in my room. I sighed. “Did I fall asleep in your room again?” I mumbled.

Kon chuckled. “Yep,” he said.

“Mm… ‘M sorry.”

I felt Kon shift on his side of the bed. His hand rested on the side of my head. “Don’t be sorry, babe. I like it when you fall asleep in here. It reassures me that you’re safe.”

“You’re so sappy when no one else is around,” I said.

“Just for you,” he said. “I'm every bit as in love with you as I was when we first started dating—if not more so.”

“Aw. That’s sweet. I am too.” I leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose. He smirked at me.

“You ever think we should move out of the mountain and find our own place?” Kon asked.

“I haven’t thought about that yet, why?”

“We’re getting older—we may outgrow this team soon like Aqualad and Nightwing. We’ve been together for four years so… maybe it’s time.”

“Maybe,” I agreed. “But I think for now the youngsters need us.”

“Hmm,” Conner hummed.

“I bet M’gann’s convinced that we’re way more physically involved than we actually are given the amount of times I fall asleep in here,” I mumbled.

Conner chuckled quietly. “Maybe,” he agreed.

OOOOOWHOOP! OOOOOWHOOP! OOOOOWHOOP!

We both sat up and looked at each other. “The town’s in trouble,” we said in unison.

Conner and I flung the covers off and jumped into action. I used my powers to summon my suit from my room and changed into it quickly. Once we were both changed, Conner grabbed me around the waist and flew out of the mountain.

From the air over the town, we could see a pillar of smoke rising over the warehouse district. Kon banked in that direction. Several stories above the ground he let me go, I dropped like a rock, using my powers to catch myself near the burning building. I did a roll anyway out of habit to spare my knees and popped up in an alert stance.

Kon landed heavily next to me, nearly cracking the pavement under him. He took my hand. Together we ran inside the burning building, looking for victims. The younger members of the team would turn up eventually.

Inside, I kept a telekinetic shield around us as best I could to keep the smoke out of our lungs.

A hoard of robots surged out of the ground the moment we ducked through. I yelped and jumped closer to Conner. He held onto me protectively and yanked me to the ground as bullets shot past us.

“Can you hold them?” he asked.

I took a deep breath. “Not for long,” I said.

We felt the mindlink connect our thoughts as M’gann swooped into the warehouse. They’re piloted, her voice said in our minds. I hear thoughts in them.

“Hold them still for as long as you can,” Conner instructed. I nodded. He pulled us both back to our feet. Once I was safely standing, he hovered off the ground, knees bent. “It’s going to be okay, babe.”

I nodded, took a fortifying breath, and turned to the oncoming robots.

Flinging my hands out, I froze the robots in their paths.

“Supes, go!” I shouted. “There are too many for me to hold for too long!” I was already struggling to keep the piloted robots at bay. Kon nodded to me and swooped away, tearing the bots apart without killing the pilots.

My breathing was already labored and we’d barely begun. I was sweating and exhausting myself trying to make the fight easier for the others. Robin leapt over my head with a flip, bo staff at the ready, and threw himself into the fray. A green eagle—Beast Boy—soared after him.

My knees were shaking and I could barely stand. C’mon Starry, Conner encouraged through the mindlink. You can do this. You’re strong enough to stop a bullet dead. You can hold these clowns!

I… I can’t… I can’t keep this up forever, I replied, panting even in my thoughts.

Just a little longer baby. It’s gonna be fine. We’re almost done.

They didn’t look “almost done.”

I… they’re too strong… struggling…

Hang on, Starbeam! Conner’s voice in my thoughts sounded far away…

My knees buckled. I went tumbling down as though in slow motion.

“Whoa there, Stars. It’s okay. I got you. I got you,” a soothing voice said. It didn’t sound like Conner but my mind was worn out from the use of my powers. I was fairly certain my nose was bleeding. It felt like Conner’s strong arms though…

“Conner?” I mumbled.

“Think again, gorgeous,” the voice said, lowering me to the ground.

I peeled my eyes open. They hurt.

Peering over me was a blob of red, black, and brown. I narrowed my eyes, confused and trying to block out the painful light of the fire and smoke. The telekinetic shield I’d been using to keep the smoke out of my eyes and lungs had dropped when I collapsed since I wasn’t strong enough to keep it up.

“Who… who… you?” I tried.

One gloved finger touched my lips. “Shh. You exhausted yourself. I'm going to give you a shot of adrenaline, okay? Everything’s going to be fine.”

My vision cleared enough to see a shiny red helmet, black top, and brown leather jacket.

Something sharp and painful hit me right in the chest. I coughed.

Before I knew it, the pain was gone—and everything was thrown into sharp relief. The helmet was set in a scowl and the black top was body armor that had a red symbol on it, partially obscured by the leather jacket. It looked a bit like a bat?

I was wide awake and wired within moments, all exhaustion gone. I jumped back to my feet. The newcomer joined me in standing. He was about as tall as Conner and built the same—muscular and powerful. I wasn’t ignorant enough not to notice the guns strapped to his thighs, but chose not to comment on them unless he used them wrongly.

Right at that moment, some bots that slipped through the rest of my team made their way to us. The newcomer’s back pressed against mine. I heard the shwing of knives being drawn from sheaths.

We jumped into the fight at the same time, watching each other’s backs while the rest of my team was distracted by their own foes.

“I know what you’re called,” I said to the newcomer.

“That so?” he asked.

“You’re Red Hood—the rogue that terrorized Gotham and usurped Black Mask,” I said.

He laughed. “At your service, Starbeam,” he said.

Something about the way he fought seemed familiar to me. Like we’d fought together before. But I’d never met Red Hood before—I didn’t think. “What are you helping us for?” I asked.

Red Hood snorted. “Bold of you to assume I'm helping anyone other than you,” he remarked, ducking so I could access a bot and tear the armor off, exposing the pilot.

Red Hood drew one of his guns.

BANG!

The bullet stopped dead two inches from the pilot’s head, spinning in the air, held in place by my powers. I dropped it and grabbed Hood’s gun. “We don’t play by those rules here,” I snapped, yanking it out of his hand.

“I don’t play by anyone else’s rules but mine, sweetheart,” he snarled.

“This is my turf and you’ll play by my rules while you’re here,” I returned. Throwing his gun into the air and holding it there with my powers, I clocked the pilot hard with my elbow and knocked him out.

“Fine,” Hood snarled. “Only because I like you so much.”

I scoffed.

Everything okay, babe? Conner asked.

Fine. We have a third-party. Red Hood. He’s helping for now. He gave me a shot of adrenaline.

S’pose I’ll have to thank him later.

S’pose so, I agreed, yanking the power source out of a robot so it crumbled, pilot still inside. There’d be a manual release to get them out.

Aqualad appeared and helped put the fire out. Beast Boy helped. The rest of us took care of the robots.

Once everything deescalated, the mindlink was dissolved and Red Hood’s arm snatched me. His other one shot a grapple gun at the ceiling. We went shooting through the smoke and climbed out onto the roof of the warehouse.

“What the heck, dude?” I demanded. “I gotta make sure my team is okay!”

“They’ll survive without you for five minutes, princess,” he returned. “But you and I need to talk.”

“That’s not a phrase that’s ever followed by good news,” I said.

He snorted. “Yeah you’re probably right. But we do,” he said.

“Why me?” I asked. “Nightwing is technically the leader—”

“Ah nah. I can’t talk to that idiot. I needed someone reasonable. Someone friendly,” he answered casually.

“I'm not particularly known for being either of those when under this mask,” I pointed out.

Red Hood shrugged. “Yeah but I know you. The real you.”

I took a step away from him. “What? How could you—? I don’t know you!”

I heard a chuckle from under his helmet. Red Hood lifted his hand and pressed something under the jaw of his helmet. I heard it hiss. Something on the back released. He bent down and pulled it off. It slipped off his head. He shook his hair out and straightened up. There was a red eye mask on his face, but that didn’t stop me from recognizing it. I’d seen his face with a mask on before—many times. That one used to be red too.

I gasped. “Jason?!” I hissed.

He chuckled. “Surprised to see me, gorgeous?”

The adrenaline he’d shot into me hadn’t worn off because I could feel my heartbeat in my eyeballs.

“Uh… I feel like surprised would be the understatement of the century. I went to your funeral! I mourned for you—I cried for you! I watched you get put in the ground!” I exclaimed.

“Yeah that would be tough,” Jason said flatly. He glanced down through the skylight at the inside of the building and then back to me. “Is it pathetic that I literally died and came back to life and still hurt to see you with Conner?”

“… What?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. But I accepted that you would never feel the same way about me when I made my way back to the States.” He made a face. “And it’s better to be the only one suffering. I’d rather be put myself through heartache if it means you’re happy. I always wanted you to be happy. That was why I didn’t tell you how I felt until right before I left.”

“Jason…”

“Nah don’t worry Stars. Don’t worry about me. The pain of dying and coming back to life and digging myself out of my own grave hurt worse,” he said. He stepped closer and put his hands on my shoulders. “Just look me in the eye and promise me you’ll be happy with Conner.”

“I promise,” I said automatically. “I promise.”

He kissed my forehead. “Good. See ya around Starbeam.” He let go and ran to the edge of the building, pushing his helmet onto his head.

“Where are you going?” I shouted.

Too late. He jumped off and disappeared.

Nightwing and Conner came through the skylight. “Starbeam?” Nightwing asked.

“Baby?” Conner asked. His hand rested on the small of my back.

“What was that about? Who was that?”

I stared at where Red Hood had jumped. “That was… that was Jason. He... he’s alive,” I said. Nightwing’s jaw dropped. He rushed to the edge to look over the town. I turned to Conner. “He made me promise that I’ll be happy with you.”

He kissed my cheek. “And what did you say?”

“I promised him that I would.” I kissed him on the lips. “I love you, Conner.”

“I love you too.”

The End!

(Epilogue)

#To Be Happy #To Be Happy Summer 2 #Summer 2 #Chapter Summer 2 #Jason Todd #Jason Todd Imagine #Jason Todd FanFiction #Red Hood #Red Hood Imagine #Red Hood FanFiction #Conner Kent #Conner Kent Imagine #Conner Kent FanFiction #Superboy #Superboy Imagine #Superboy FanFiction #Kon-El #DC #DC Imagine #DC FanFiction #BatFam #BatFam Imagine #BatFam FanFiction

[oh-mother-of-darkness]

asks (9)

Anonymous said: if you have the time, could we maybe please have your absolute /worst/ headcanons about Dick mourning Damian? before/during Spyral? btw u are an absolute gift :*

Shoot I meant to put this one into the fic today too. Oh well. Damian and Dick angst is here

Anonymous said: everytime I see something about damian it reminds me of you

The highest praise I’ve ever received :’)

Anonymous said: do you know of other batblogs that don't do ships?

Uhhhhhh I don’t think so? I can’t think of anyone else that’s entirely ship-free, but frankly I don’t follow very many people. How bout this? If any of y'all ARE ship-free, reply in the notes. That way we’ll know :)

Anonymous said: Song recs: "Centuries" by Fall Out Boy (Justice League), "Remember The Name" by Fort Minor ft. Styles of Beyond (this is THE Batfam song!), "Counting Stars" by OneRepublic (Dick), "All The Right Moves" by OneRepublic (Batkids), "Tiptoe" by Imagine Dragons (Batkids), "Warrior" by Beth Crowley (Batgirls), "Shatter Me" by Lindsey Stirling ft. Lzzy Hale (Babs), "Disarm" by The Civil Wars (Jason), "Demons" by Imagine Dragons (Jason), "Afterlife" by Ingrid Michaelson (Batkids).

Oooooooh thank you these are very nice! I hadn’t heard most of them

Anonymous said: Batfam/kids song recs! "Renegades" by X-Ambassadors, "When The Darkness Comes" by Colbie Caillat, "Royals" and "Rule the World" by Lorde, "Midnight" and "Fix You" by Coldplay and "Bad Blood" by Bastille. Also for Dick: "Pompeii" by Bastille and "Hopeless Wanderer" by Mumford & Sons.

Thanks! Idk if this was one person or two, but please continue to send me music, y'all, I like it

Anonymous said: no need to be batfamily centric, what comics would you recommend for someone getting into comics now?

Red Robin (2009)

Batgirl (2009)

Batman and Robin (2009)

Batman and Robin (2011)

Robin: Son of Batman (2015)

Batman: Under the Red Hood

Batman: The Black Mirror

Batman: The Court of Owls

Batman: Death of the Family

Good enough for a start? I don’t read a lot outside the batfamily titles, I’m afraid

Anonymous said: Omg I love your writing. Can I request Damian and Jason fighting about Damian and Jon's missions?

Hm I’m a lil backlogged just now, but I think there’s a pretty good chance that Jon will show up eventually. Just probably not real soon :/

Anonymous said: I'm new to the DC comic world, but I'm a bit curious as to how fans feel/reacted about one thing: Talia drugging and taking advantage of Bruce? Do fans feel the same about that as they would if that had happened to a female character? Was it a big deal? I was shocked to find out it had happened, and want to know how other fans feel. Did the writers ever later address it?

Oh boy

In my experience there are two schools of thought:

1) People that like Talia and choose to use the older version of canon, where Bruce and Talia were in love and the rape never happened

2) People that hate Talia

As always, I’d prefer not to say which side I come down on, and I won’t answer any personal questions related to Talia. It’s a bit of a hot button topic, and I prefer to avoid conflict. Thank you. Let’s continue.

Here’s the thing, anon-- Damian was created by a writer named Grant Morrison in 2006. Before that, there was a storyline where Bruce and Talia had a baby, and she gave him up for adoption without telling him. Historically, Bruce and Talia’s relationship has been pretty straightforward: they liked each other, and any romantic interactions were consensual. 

Morrison changed that. I can’t say for certain why, but you can read a bit more about my opinion of him over here. In Morrison’s version, Damian was conceived by rape, for eugenic purposes; they were trying to create the ideal heir from al Ghul and Wayne DNA.

Talia drugged Bruce’s drink, and yes, that is absolutely rape. No doubt about it. Rape. It’s disgusting and unnecessary, and it doesn’t really make sense, considering the thirty-five years of material that came before Morrison’s Talia. 

Because of that, it’s a divisive topic. There are a lot of people who argue that since Talia’s actions were out of character for her (and since Morrison went on to make her do other out of character things, like murdering her own son) the rape should be removed from canon. Those folks generally substitute the older storyline where Bruce and Talia were in love. 

That kind of thinking really isn't that uncommon for comic fans because the way comic canon is constructed-- multiple writers with varying skill levels who frequently produce overlapping or contradictory accounts of the same events-- presents us with multiple versions to choose from. A small and unrelated example: in his original version, Tim Drake dropped out of high school before graduation. In the n52, he graduated early. I prefer the older version, so even when I read the n52, I think of Tim as a high school drop out.

There are also canon story lines that I just don’t acknowledge, Battle for the Cowl being the easiest example. I know that the characterization is awful, so I pretend it never happened.

Morrison dramatically changed who Talia is as a character, not just at that specific point, but continually from 2006 to 2013. Since he retired, Talia has been shifting back to her older incarnation (again, see the link from above). You’re going to find a lot of folks who are happy with that, and those are likely to be the same people that edit the rape out of Talia’s history. 

You’re also going to find folks on the other side of the issue-- people that acknowledge the rape and believe that it would be wrong to edit it out of history. Morrison’s Talia, while mischaracterized, has been around for a long time with some very dramatic effects. Damian’s redemption storyline, death, resurrection, and general personality all depend on Talia’s action while Morrison was writing her-- if you choose to ignore all of that, Damian as we know him can’t exist, and he’s been a giant part of the general bat canon for the last eleven years. 

Beyond that, rape and filicide are awful, horrifying crimes, and they both happened within Talia’s canon. They’re the current version. They haven’t been retconned. As a matter of fact, Morrison isn’t the only one circulating that version-- the recent animated movies about Damian explicitly include the rape, and those began in 2014. 

You also made an excellent point when you asked about gender-- male rape victims are treated incredibly poorly in fiction and life, and I think it’s fair to argue that ignoring Bruce’s canonical rape contributes to that. Bruce isn’t the only member of the batfamily with this issue either. Dick was raped by Tarantula in 2002 (he asked her not to touch him, he was in shock and immobile, and she had sex with him anyway), and that writer (Devon Grayson) didn’t even call it rape. Would the rape of either of those men be treated differently if they were women? I don’t know. I can’t really answer a hypothetical. But it’s worth thinking about.

When it comes to Talia, I’d say my experience with general opinion has been about a 50/50 split? That being said, I am very young, and I’ve only been in this game for five years. I can’t tell you how any of this went over in 2006 because I was a ten year old at the time, and I don’t think I know anyone older who could tell me.

As far as writers go... I don’t recall Bruce’s emotional state being addressed in any way. Most of the time, writers don’t directly talk about it. Some of them seem to lean towards the earlier version by framing Bruce and Talia as a love story; however, that doesn’t mean that by omitting the rape, they retcon it. People are raped by their partners or spouses all the time. Saying that Bruce loved Talia doesn��t automatically erase the rape. Implying that Bruce and Talia had consensual sex before or after Damian’s conception doesn’t automatically erase the rape. Frankly it would be very hard to retcon, since there would have to be some kind of statement within the dialogue denying any kind of drugging. 

I don’t know if any of this will ever be addressed, but I’ve written a lot more than I meant to now, so I’m going to stop. I hope I answered all your questions. If I didn’t, you could try sending me a message instead of an ask, and we can talk more about it in private

@another-nameless-person said: The CTC story reminds me so much of my own family omg. I am so happy I'm not the only one with a big family who does this too. I'm so happy I've since moved out of my moms and can stash my own junk food at home lol

Right? I’m only just now kicking the habit of hiding my food. I also recently realized that I’m allowed to drink directly from the bottles now, which is fun

@coredesignixandnekonee said: Do you think, in a world where Nightwing knows Starfire, Oracle, Miss Martian, Red Arrow/Arsenal, and Kid Flash (Wally West1) that there's a "red headed friends of Robin/Nightwing" club where they hang out and complain about him with tea and cookies?

Wally, dipping Oreos in his milk: listen guys I know for a fact he isn’t sleeping and I think we’re gonna have to make him. Whose turn is it

#yes i like music send me music #please #i particularly liked afterlife #asks #whooo boy I'm gonna have to tag this one i think #rape #rape cw #tw: rape #death #please remember that i don't want to take sides and i don't want to talk about it #bout have a panic attack every time she comes up tbh