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thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels · 1 month

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This devotion of yours is misplaced (but this love, perhaps, is not)

Blood nose and a crooked tongue (I always wanted to be someone) - series masterlist here

pairing: tim drake x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.4k

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: reader is like vaguely injured, timmy is so in love and sooo crazy abt it, they sorta both are, idk this one's kinda intense guys there's a lot of love in it kinda felt like I was intruding when I wrote it

a/n: I'm so sorry but we're fast-forwarding to established relationship but I promise I'll get back to the pining of the past I just have the intense need to jump around timelines like a rabbit

There's a bulb in the light fixture above your bathroom sink that flickers, the yellow light hazing in and out while the others shine bright. You sit on the counter, leaning your back against your mirror as you cup a hand to your ribs protectively, watching Tim with hooded, lazy eyes. There's a set to his jaw, the muscles clenching as he moves around, pulling your first-aid kit out from under your sink.

You think back to the day he realized you didn't have one, his eyes wide as he spluttered out something about you needing one because what if you get hurt? You'd shot back that you'd always managed without one. He'd accused you of suffering for the sake of it - forsaking softness for the show of it.

That had cut a bit too deep. He didn't apologize, but you didn't ask him to. The next morning, there was a first-aid kit sitting on your bathroom counter.

Tim's hands ghosting over your sides pulls you from the memory as you suck in a sharp breath. He winces apologetically and hooks a forefinger under your chin, tilting your head to wipe a disinfectant wipe over the cut on your cheek.

"You need to relax," you huff quietly. He shoots you a look.

"I don't like seeing you hurt."

"Then go somewhere else," you shoot back. You feel something that reminds you of a concussion you once had hazing through your mind - maybe if you hadn't, you'd have noticed the way he pulls back from you. You would've kept your mouth shut.

"You know that's not what I mean." There's a strain in Tim's voice that he only gets when he's trying to be good to you - when you're not letting him.

"I never know what you mean," you respond, and there's a tiredness in your voice that shouldn't be there. Tim's shoulders drop, his stance shifting as he looks at you. He's trying, you realize, to let himself be read. But acts of love like that are so often impossible for things like you and him.

"I would rather…" he begins slowly, eyes flitting around while he searches for the words. "I would rather, if you're hurting, that you do it right here where I can help you. I don't want you to do it alone."

"This is part of the job - and I did it alone for a long time," you point out. He fixes you with a frustrated stare.

"But you don't have to now. I'm here now," he insists.

"Are you?" Tim huffs through his nose, fixing a butterfly strip over the cut on your cheek.

"If you'll let me," he says. There's a gentleness there that you're not sure you deserve.

"I don't know if I can." A warble cuts through your voice in a way that makes you bite the inside of your cheek. Tim smoothes his hands up your thighs, parting your legs so that he can stand closer to you between them. His thumbs dig into your muscles gently, rubbing circles into your skin.

"Explain that to me," he prompts. You sigh and tilt your head back to lean it against the mirror, eyeing him through your lashes.

"I don't think I'm any good at being helped," you say simply before leaning forward enough to cup his cheek in your hand, smoothing the furrow between his brows out with your thumb. "And I'm not sure you're any good at helping. You're going to give yourself a headache."

"It's worth it," Tim says, but his response is too quick, a jumbled rush of breath leaving his lungs. You fix him with a knowing, warning sort of look as his devotion to you rings through you and thumps against your heart.

"Careful," you warn, but the hand you use to grip the back of his neck and bring him closer to you betrays you. "You can't lose yourself in this, Red. You can't love me enough that it makes you whole." His fingers tense on your thighs, pressing in, but he lets you pull him closer.

"No calling me that when I'm not wearing the mask," he murmurs, a shoddy sort of diversion. A smile twitches on your lips.

"But you are red," you say, smoothing your thumbs over the blushing apples of his cheeks. "Right here. And there's no one here to hear me… no one but you." Tim gives you a pained sort of look, his shoulders bunching in embarrassment, but you throw him a lazy smile and lean forward to place a quick kiss to his lips. He doesn't miss your wince when you do.

"Let me see your side," he asks gently.

"Nothing's broken," you respond quickly. He shoots you a look and reaches anyway, pulling your shirt up to reveal mottled purple and blue bruising over your ribs. A gentle hand is placed over it as he murmurs for you to breathe deeply. You try to, but the softness of it all is making you dizzy, making your chest ache for an entirely different reason.

"I don't think anything's broken," Tim assures as he pulls your shirt back down, his hands then finding their home on your waist.

"I told you that," you remind him dryly. There's a stubborn set to his jaw.

"I wanted to check."

"You need to have faith in me."

"Do you have faith in me?" He doesn't say it like an accusation, but you pull back like it is. He looks at you hard, the light flickering over his face and the furrow of his brows. It's a determination that you should be used to by now - one that's born of a desperate devotion to you, a need to get on his knees and pray.

You think he might do it now, just for a second, as he tenses to pull away from you. But you make a panicked, needy sort of sound as you reach for him and it's enough to bring him back to you, some kind of innate pull he has that draws him to your aid. His hands cup your face delicately and he smoothes his thumbs over your cheeks as you close your eyes, willing yourself to breathe.

"I'm not a… I'm not a faithful kind of person, Red. There's a devotion in you that's misplaced." You try to say it gently, the words pulling at your vocal cords as you speak, everything coming out painfully. Tim leans forward to rest his forehead against yours.

"You don't get to choose who I worship," he offers. Your shoulders tense slightly.

"Do you worship me? Or do you love me?" You ask. He doesn't pull away, keeping his eyes closed as his forehead rests against yours.

"What's the difference?"

"There's a gap there, Tim. The difference between devotion and worship. It's - it's love that separates the two," you explain, squeezing your eyes shut.

"I love you." He says it like it's easy.

"Are you sure?" He pulls away at the question, thumbing over your cheeks until you open your eyes to look at him. He's still close enough that you can feel his breath on yours.

"There is a part of you that knows how to be loved," he says - like it's simple. "I'm going to stay here until you find it."

"And then?"

"And then I'll stay to love you." Your hands reach for him at his words, bunching the front of his shirt in your fingers.

"What if that never happens?" You ask, looking anywhere but him, anywhere but straight into the love shining in his eyes.

"Then I'll pray to you," a kiss is pressed to the corner of your mouth. "Like I always have."

"I'm not an idol to obsess over," you protest weakly. More kisses are pressed up your cheek, over your eyelids once they flutter closed, and down the bridge of your nose.

"No," Tim acknowledges easily. "You're someone to be loved. But you haven't figured out how to do that yet, and I… I haven't figured out how to do this yet, either." Your hands move from his shirt to tangle in his hair as you pull him impossibly closer.

"Maybe we'll never learn," your voice is hushed as his lips hover over yours. "Maybe we'll be these things forever."

"Then we'll be them together," is Tim's immediate answer, his lips brushing against your own. "And maybe that's all we need."

#smsn.writes #tim drake #tim drake x reader #tim drake x you #tim drake x y/n #tim drake imagine #tim drake fanfiction #tim drake fic #tim drake fluff #red robin #red robin x reader #red robin x you #red robin x y/n #red robin imagine

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cipheress-to-k-pop · 22 days

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Does anyone know about this Tim Drake x Reader fic where I think she gets kidnapped by R'as Al Ghul and ig he wants to have Tim's children or something like that and she's like" the only person who gets to have his sperm is me!"

maybe this was a giant fever dream because as I type this out I realize just how crazy I sound but I could've sworn that I've read a fic like this before

i feel like there was a helicopter involved as well

#tim drake x reader #batfam x reader #tim drake headcanon #tim drake fic #tim drake #batfam headcanon #batfam #yall im not crazy i swear

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pekejscatbed · 5 months

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Leather Jackets and Painkillers | Jason Todd & Tim Drake

Info/Warnings:

Tim Drake-centric, Trans Tim Drake, Menstruation, Tim is on his period and in PAIN, Jason takes care of him, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Tim Drake is Red Robin. Jason Todd is Red Hood, Trans character written by trans author

batman masterlist

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Red Robin is in the middle of tying up a pair of thugs when a particularly bad cramp hits, twisting his insides like a blender and stabbing his gut with the viciousness of Damian with his katana; he grits his teeth, willing the pain to go away, and works his nimble fingers around the cord to finish off the knot.

With the criminals now taken care of, Red Robin taps the comm link in his ear, "O, I got two thugs tied up here."

"On it, Red. Alerting police now." Oracle responds after getting the location.

Red taps his ear once more, effectively shutting off their communication, then grapples to the top of a nearby building to wait for the police just in case the goons escape, or someone comes along to cut them free. While waiting, another cramp has Red clutching at his stomach and he has to sit down on the building's roof to stop himself from swaying on his feet and falling over the edge. He groans, cursing to himself as waves of pain wash over him, and his vision flutters before he realizes what's about to happen- fuck.

Suddenly, Red Robin falls to his side, vision black as excruciating pain grabs ahold of his consciousness and knocks him out.

------

Red Hood is out on patrol, surveying his territory for trouble and shooting (rubber) bullets at anyone who provides it, when he notices the collapsed figure a few buildings away, just on the outside of his territory; when he gets closer, he realizes who that figure is, red chest piece and black sleeves and leggings giving it away before Hood even sees the yellow bird head in the middle of the figures chest: Red Robin.

Muttering curses to himself, The Hood bends over and picks the other up, throwing the smaller male over his broad shoulder. With Red Robin hanging over his shoulder, Hood's arm around his thighs to keep him from slipping, Hood turns in the direction of his nearest safe house.

About halfway to his hideout, Red Hood smells the metallic odor of blood thanks to the absence of his helmet, only wearing his domino mask tonight, before he feels a wetness against his shoulder, and he curses once more. "If you got blood on my goddamn leather jacket..."

He grumbles to himself, moving faster now, obviously so he can clean his jacket sooner and definitely not because he's worried that his (brother) replacement is injured.

The pair arrive at the safe house without incident, and Hood is quick to lay Red Robin on the couch that Hood himself has laid injured on many times before. He begins to strip Red of his suit, of his crime fighting persona, starting with the mask, turning Red Robin back into Tim Drake. The cape comes off next, then the chest piece, and so on.

Tim is down to his underwear when Jason realizes the other has no injures- scratch that- no open wounds, because in this line of work? One is always injured in one way or another, Tim is no exception, but none of the youngers current injuries are bleeding, and that confuses Jason. He looks down at his jacket, which definitely has blood on the shoulder, and at his hands, that are sticky with crimson; he then goes through the difference pieces of Tim's uniform, searching for blood, when he comes across the wet spot at the crotch of his leggings- his hands pull away covered with blood, and of course he didn't see it, because Tim's leggings are black and so are his underwear, but that means-

Jason looks at Tim's chest, where identical crescent scars shape his chest, and he remembers the gender marker on Tim's file when Jason first found out he'd been replaced as Robin and went snooping, and how the F was crossed out with a M next to it, and-

Tim is on his fucking period.

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Tim wakes up in a bed he doesn't recognize, in a room he doesn't recognize, and he's not in uniform even though he remembers that being the last thing he wore, instead dressed in an oversized pair of black sweatpants and a red hoodie that engulfs the whole upper half of his body, and he knows he's seen this hoodie before...

There's a nightstand to the right of the bed with a bottle of painkillers and a glass of water on the surface, as well as a bottled sports drink from Tim's go-to brand. In front of the nightstand are two plastic grocery bags from a corner store native to Gotham, one filled with a variety of Tim's favorite snacks and different brands of chocolate, the other filled with pads and tampons in a multitude of sizes-

Tim slips out of the bed and quietly opens the drawers of the nightstand, snooping around for anything to tell him where he is and who lives here. The first drawer contains medical equipment, bandages and gauze and hydrogen-peroxide, etcetera. The second drawer is half filled with shirts and half filled with pants, though under the clothes lies a pocketknife and picture of... Alfred and teenage Jason?!

Tim sighs, now knowing who brought him here and where he is, or where he thinks he must be: one of Jason's hideouts. Still, that doesn't mean he's safe, as Jason has hurt him before- what if this is all just a trick, a trap? Tim slowly opens the bedroom door and tip-toes his way out of the room and around the corner, where he sees a uniform free Jason hunched over on the couch, wearing grey sweatpants and a green t-shirt and scrubbing at what looks like a leather jacket.

Jason doesn't look up as he sighs, "You owe me a new jacket, pretender."

"And I owe you a new jacket because?" Tim raises an eyebrow as he walks fully into the room, stopping a few steps away from the couch.

"Because," Jason emphasizes the word as he looks at Tim, throwing the jacket at the other, "you got blood on it."

Tim looks at the stain on the jackets shoulder.

"You do know I found you passed out on a rooftop, yeah?" Tim doesn't answer, throwing the jacket back. "What happened?"

Tim scoffs. "I think you know, considering the bags you left by the bed."

"If you're in enough pain to pass out on a fucking roof, then you shouldn't be out there in the first place."

"Don't tell me what to do!" Tim oh so cleverly fires back as another rush of pain hits him full force, and he stumbles for a second before catching himself.

"You didn't take the painkillers." Jason rolls his eyes as he stands, letting his jacket fall to the couch, and he grabs Tim's arm, dragging him back to the bedroom. "Come on."

"Let me go, asshole!" He tries to fight back, but he's in too much pain, though he's brought some comfort when he's pushed to the bed and a blanket is thrown over him, and he stays quiet when Jason hands him two of the painkillers and the glass of water, taking them without protest. However, he does ask, "Why are you doing this?"

It's now Jason's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Why are you being nice to me? Don't you care that I'm..." Tim's voice trails off.

"I don't. It's none of my businesses." Jason shrugs, picking up the bag of pads and tampons from the floor and dropping them next to Tim on the bed. "You might wanna use these. I didn't... I didn't think you'd be comfortable with me going that far, so I just put you in my sweats. You can put on something else if you bled through. Bottom drawer."

Jason walks out of the room before giving Tim any time to respond, and Tim just stares for a minute, what the fuck on the tip of his tongue, before he takes Jason's advice and grabs the bag, making his way towards the bathroom.

#tim drake #tim drake fic #tim drake fanfiction #trans tim drake #ftm tim drake #jason todd #jason todd fic #jason todd fanfiction #jason and tim #tim and jason #jason todd and tim drake #tim drake and jason todd #trans character #trans male character #ftm character #batman #red robin #red hood

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indulgentdaydream · 3 months

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Missy’s Masterlist

Jason Todd

Cooking Lessons (on both Ao3 and Tumblr) Jason Todd x fem!Reader || Fluff. One Shot. || Word Count: 629 Summary: Jason catches you cooking in the kitchen. He decides to help you out when he sees you struggle.

Drawing Touches (on both Ao3 and Tumblr) Jason Todd x gn!Reader. || Fluff One Shot. || Word Count: 936 Summary: It's too hot to sleep peacefully. Why not play a quiet game of 'can I draw on your back?'?.

New in Town (on both Ao3 and Tumblr) Jason Todd x gn!Vigilante!Reader || Fluff Requested One Shot. || Word Count: 1,185 Summary: There's a new vigilante in town. Jason tries to cope with his newfound emotions for them.

Out of the Bag (on both Ao3 on Tumblr) Jason Todd x fem!Civillian!Reader || Hurt and Comfort Requested One Shot || Word Count: 1,862 Summary: Jason hasn't introduced you to his family. Hasn't even mentioned you. You get injured and the closest place to take you is the batcave.

Meet Cutes (on both Ao3 and Tumblr) Jason Todd x gn!Nurse!Reader || Fluff Requested One Shot || Word Count: 1,035 Summary: You work in a clinic that deals with a lot of criminals, who in turn deal with the Red Hood. One day, you finally meet the man responsible for your talent at sewing up bullet wounds.

M.I.A. (on both Ao3 and Tumblr) Jason Todd x fem!Reader || Fluff Requested One Shot || Word Count: 758 Summary: Jason wakes up and realizes Reader isn't in bed. He goes searching for them throughout their shared apartment.

Bliss and Misery (on both Ao3 and Tumblr) Dad!Jason Todd x Fem!Reader || Angst; Hurt/No Comfort One Shot || Word Count: 1,643

Tim Drake

The Amalgamation That Is The Inner Workings of Tim Drake (only on Ao3) General Fic || Angst Chapters: 4/? || Word Count: 7,932 Summary: Tim Drake comes to understand sibling relationships.

#masterlist #indulgent daydream’s masterlist #jason todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd fic #fanfic #tim drake #red robin #dc #dc robin #tim drake fic #tim drake fanfic

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emerionjupiter · 7 months

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I’m so mad. I had this fic that I absolutely loved. I can’t find it.

So basically it was Tim Drake centric (as per usual) and basically he died when he was five by drowning then just figured out he couldn’t die. There’s a whole thing with Ra’s, Pru has parts of Tim in jars because it’s Tim- it basically ends with The Batfam finding out in horrible fashion because it’s Tim.

Please help?? Was it deleted?? I’m suffering

#tim drake fic #tim drake fanfiction #tim drake is a menace #tim drakes missing spleen #batfamily fanfic #help #the other fanfic hunt is still going this is just what my brain wants at this moment #just another fanfic hunt #jupi’s choice fanfic hunt

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saylorsaysstop · 3 months

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key: 🔥 (smut) || 💜 (fluff) || 🖤 (angst)

↪ Headcanons

Sleeping Together 🔥

He Catches You 🔥

Cuddling 💜

How They Kiss 💜

Quiet Acts of Love 💜

Reputation Era 💜

#tim drake #tim drake fic #tim drake smut #tim drake fluff #tim drake angst #headcanons #dc comics headcanons #red robin #red robin x reader #tim drake x female reader #tim drake x reader

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noneknxws · 6 months

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hello I’m on a roll (also psa this isn’t jaytim)

“What’d you say?”

Tim looks up from the alley cat, who’s face he’s got cupped in his hands. Jason stares back at him, the front part of his helmet up so Tim can see the glaring eyes facing in his direction.

“Love you too?” Tim repeats awkwardly, scratching the kitty behind the ear. He turns his back to the cat, because Jason doesn’t deserve his attention nearly as much.

Jason’s silent for a few seconds. “Right after I told you you’d get rabies from that thing.”

“Shockingly enough, Jason, I care about you.” Tim picks up Sprinkles, as he has now dubbed the feline, and carries her back to his brother. “You’re like a scraggly stray cat. You’re really annoying, but I feel like I have to drag you out of the blood pile you’re sitting in.”

“Quarter of it’s my blood,” Jason points out, scowling. “And I didn’t call you for a simile. I called Dick ‘cause he has the nearest safe-house, but you-“

“Showed up for both,” Tim finishes easily as he dumps a purring Sprinkles onto Jason’s lap. “Because this family sucks at sticking together, and knowing who would or wouldn’t. So I wanted you to know I’d stick with you.”

They sit in silence, apart from the noise of Gotham and Sprinkles’ gentle hum.

“You know I’m allergic to cats, right?”

“Obviously. Just because I care doesn’t mean I want to see you suffer sometimes.”

#THIS ISNT BATCEST #cough. Idk where this came from #maybe bc I think a tim and Jason team up in gotham war would be amazing #HOLY CRAP WAIT THAT WOULD BE AWESOME #tim drake #jason todd #jason todd fic #tim Drake fic #red Robin #red hood #batfam #tim drake and jason todd #red & redder #nk scissors

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ramsywasalittlelamb · 7 months

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who’s gonna come around when you break?

A Regressor!Tim and Caregiver!Bruce fic, 1.2k words, hurt/comfort, content warning for panic attacks! do not ship! photos found on pinterest!

I rarely see any fics of a regressor helping a caregiver!!! especially in dc agere fics which is WILD because everyone has issues in dc, let’s be real.

anyway this is my contribution, listen to drive by the cars because it makes me sob wildly.

Tim had a habit of wandering around when he was small.

Not that anyone minded. To be honest, everyone quite enjoyed seeing a tiny Tim waltzing about with a stuffed animal in hand, observing every detail of the manor so delicately and intricately, from the carvings in the wooden banisters, to the brush strokes from the tall and wide portraits hung on the walls.

However, Tim being the curious person he is, eventually stumbled upon the entrance to the BatCave, which then very quickly led to a new rule. Don’t go into the BatCave if you’re starting to, or already, feel regressed. Easy and simple, right?

Wrong.

Tim knew rules were set in place for protection over him, but it was the BatCave, the most secure and safe place he could ever imagine himself to be in, and there was typically at least one person inside at all times. A family consisting of over-workers will guarantee that.

Since the rules were set in stone, and there was someone always inside, he never really got to see the area when he was small, much to his chagrin. Whether it be from being bribed with a movie night, or being picked up and carried for the rest of the day to ensure he wouldn’t go into the room again, he could never manage to get in there without being ushered out in seconds.

Until now.

Most of the family had come back from patrol by now, Duke, Damian and Cassandra all in their bedrooms and most likely sleeping. Stephanie had sent a text to him that she was going to be taking a shower, so she was occupied for the time being. Jason didn’t come back to the manor after his patrol, rather finding comfort in the familiarity of his apartment tonight. Dick in a similar position, but he had work the next morning and was on his way to Blüdhaven. Which then left Bruce, who (as typical,) stayed out later than any of the others just to ensure the necessities of the night were finished, which gave Tim an opening to sneak downstairs and into the cave.

Grabbing his well-trusted dragon plush, honorably named Aurora, he carefully set foot on his adventure to the BatCave. Tiptoeing his way down the halls and past the kitchen where Alfred was focused on preparing an after patrol tray for Bruce, he managed to sneak his way into the cave without a hitch.

He silently cheered for himself, holding Aurora close to his chest and bopping her snout with the front of the pacifier in his mouth as he took the steps one at a time, ensuring his plan doesn’t go awry by an accident down the stairs.

So concentrated on the ground below him and where he placed his foot next, it wasn’t until he hit the bottom step that he heard the labored breathing by the computer, looking up to see Bruce sitting in the chair.

Not Batman. No. Bruce. The batsuit was rid of his body, the only evidence of the suit being the reddened outline on his cheeks from the cowl. Rather, he suited a black turtleneck with a pair of sweatpants.

Apparently, Bruce hadn’t heard him either, judging by how hadn’t moved from where he sat, his head in his hands, shoulders shaking and his chest stuttering with his breaths. Tim’s brows furrowed at the sight— at the behavior. It’s not like he’s never seen Bruce like this before, but… It was different. He wasn’t sporting the cowl or any part of the suit, it wasn’t the day of an unwelcoming reminder of a specific event. It was just Bruce.

Inching closer, shuffling his socked feet quietly against the floor, he finally caught Bruce’s attention. His head whips up to meet Tim’s eyes, the first thing that catches Tim’s attention is how red and glossy Bruce’s eyes are, how alert they are as they surveyed Tim’s face. Tears gather at Bruce’s lashes and the puffiness of his under eyes stands out underneath the dark lighting.. It felt like a staring contest into each other’s crystal blue eyes, neither one of them daring to break the silence as they took in one another’s appearance and the situation.

“Hey—” Bruce croaks out, a hitch in his breath like he’d just been running, his mouth seemingly trying to catch up to his brain. “Hey, kiddo.” He manages to choke out, one of his hands coming up to his chest and massaging his sternum with his knuckles.

Even when regressed, Tim knows what a panic attack feels and looks like. Tim also knows he’s smart enough to figure out that that’s what’s happening.

Except, he’s unsure of how to comfort Bruce. Their eye contact continues as Tim tries to think of ways to help him out. What would help Tim if he had a panic attack? Ooh! An even better idea! What would Bruce do if Tim was having a panic attack?

He shuffles over further, Bruce’s eyebrows knitting together in confusion, his once watery eyes now spilling with tears out onto his cheeks with a snuffle. Tim places Aurora into Bruce’s free hand and guides his arms into a hugging position with the dragon.

Bruce stares downward at the stuffed animal, and then back up to his son in confusion, but still allowing the boy to do whatever the boy wants, he can’t find much care to stop him. Tim drops his head on Bruce’s shoulder, wrapping his arms– as much as he can in their position– around Bruce’s body, and it’s just then that it clicks for Bruce just what’s happening.

“Oh. Oh, thank you, buddy.” He sniffles out, keeping one arm wrapped around Aurora’s plush body, the other moving to wrap around Tim as he leans his head against the younger’s shoulder, letting the boy perform his attempt to help clear his consciousness, clenching his shaking hand onto the back fabric of Tim’s shirt.

Tim nods, patting his hand against Bruce’s back, just like Bruce does to him when he cries. “‘s’okay, papa. You’re safe.” He mumbles behind the pacifier, remembering the words being echoed to him repeatedly whilst being held in Bruce’s warm embrace not too many nights ago.

The words break a sob from Bruce’s throat, tucking his head into the crook of Tim’s neck and bringing Tim to sit in his lap, almost like a cradle as he rocks the both of them side to side in the chair, the two finding themselves in silence and holding each other for quite some time. Tim lets Bruce cry, he remembers him and the others saying it’s okay to cry, and it’s helpful to just cry it out sometimes.

“I am safe. Thank you.” Bruce finally says, holding Tim— and Aurora, he could never forget her.— tighter and closer to himself, pressing a kiss to the crown and forehead of Tim’s head, and of course a kiss to Aurora’s forehead and snout at Tim’s hand nudging her closer to his face.

Tim’s eyes had fallen shut at some point while in Bruce’s arms, and while Bruce would get up and move the two of them to a comfier and warmer spot than an office chair in a cave, he can’t find the energy to move Tim, or himself. Besides, it’s not like this would be the first time they’ve fallen asleep like this in the BatCave. And it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

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borderlinegerard · 5 months

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hi guysss this fic is my lifes fucking worth so. hi. um. heres the summary:

Tim Drake is a lonely child, but things get even more lonely when he's left stranded in a world he doesn't know with a family that remembers a him that he isn't. And to top it all off, it's all his fault.

please be nice to me and read ir :)

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thedevilundercover · 2 months

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my perpetual state of being is going: hey, that piece of media + this fanfic + another headcanon + a bajillion other stuff would make the perfect fic

totally unrelated to that, I have another fic idea

Timbuktu but he’s a shady medic. He’s also aged up bc why not

He’s lost his parents, he’s lost his fortune, he’s now living in crime alley. Great, stellar, it’s whatever, then he finds a whole ass child bleeding out in an alley

Because Timber has, like, a saviour complex, he’s like ok I’m going to carry this random child into my shitty apartment. When he finishes patching the child he passes out and the next day the child is gone.

Timmy’s like great, he’s gone, idgaf. But no, Timberly, you made a mistake. Bc the child told *other children* about him. Now he was running an under ground medic for homeless children, he’s totally fine, the compartmentalisation skills are coming in hand.

The first kid he saved, Jason, disappeared one day, Tim’s confused and worried (he doesn’t care for him, no sir, why would you say that?) then he’s like ohhhh new Robin = Jason

Then Robin dies, and he’s… *more hurt than he had thought he would be*

After a while he’s still sad, but it’s better, he’s still taking care of the children. Bc it’s what Jason would have wanted, but the fucking red hood gang captures him.

He’s like ohhhhh fuck, this is the end besties. But for some reason this goon named Gary ruined it all. Gary was a little dumb and he ruined the entire terrorising part of the kidnapping.

Jason apparently wanted to kill him because he forgot him? Bullshit? He was depressed?

#I really like the fics where timberlina is not a batfam member #If you haven’t noticed #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #tim drake is a menace #Tim drake is not a batfam member #tim drake fic #jason todd fic

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hearteyeshayley · 10 months

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In honor of Maisie Peters iconic lyric “Mr. Bruce Wayne where is your cape now?” in her latest song You’re Just A Boy (And I’m Kinda the Man)

Here is a full list of all my completed Tim Drake centered fics ranked by how much I fondly remember them rn

The Failure of Tim Drake… my first Batman fic aww! Tim gets benched for failing a class but he goes off the deep end and becomes convinced there’s another explanation

Tim and Kon v. The World… timkon one shot ✨ for a prank, Tim pretends to be evil. Kon is super into it.

Not Even Nightwing?… TimBer one shot 🫶🏻 a little spice 🔥 Tim claims he’s never had a crush on a vigilante and Bernard is like “not even nightwing??” And Tim is like :/

The Conner Kent Conspiracy Board… Timkon angst Tim figures out Kon likes him, unfortunately before Kon does.

Sore Loser… timkon fluff (with a sprinkle of angst). Tim reveals he’s been going easy on Kon when they spar and it all unravels from there

Champagne Problems… Tim and Kon break up and won’t tell the batfamily why so obviously there’s shenanigans (angst with a happy ending!!)

To All the Vigilantes I’ve Loved Before… my longest fic ever (so far) inspired by the movie to all the boys I’ve loved before. Whenever Tim has a crush on someone in the hero community, he writes them a love letter that he’ll never send. Damian is an evil baby brother and sends them. This causes problems, but can Tim and Kon fake date their way out of this one?

Capture the Flag to the death… Tim, Dick, and Damian play capture the flag and no one in Gotham is safe. Minor timkon.

Aaand one more

+ this one is currently in progress, but I’ve written all of it I’m just editing the last few chapters!

Take me to the airport (call me from the platform)… Tim and Kon start a secret friends with benefits situation, Damian and Tim bond, Young Justice gets fro yo, Tim gets jealous of a barista, Bruce gets flicked in the head by Kate, etc.

#timkon #timkon fic rec #batman fanfiction #batman #batfamily fic #tim drake #tim drake fic

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thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels · 3 months

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These hands may be bloody (but they're still mine and I'm still yours)

Blood nose and a crooked tongue (I always wanted to be someone) - series masterlist here

pairing: tim drake x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.3k

genre: fluff, sort of hurt/comfort

warnings: there's some talk of timmy being able to hurt reader, but the point is that he doesn't

a/n: hmmmmm actually this is a really good one enjoy <3

"You know, my front door works very well," you point out without looking up, your eyes still trained on the case file in your lap as you sit on your couch, listening to your balcony door click shut and heavy boots walk across your living room.

"Aw, but where's the fun in that?" Red Robin drawls as he settles on the arm of your couch, leaning over to try to look at your file before you snap it shut and throw it onto your coffee table.

"There are a lot of apartments to break into around here, Red. You should start branching out." You quip.

"Those other apartments don't give me what I need."

"Which is…?" You prompt. He extends his hand, dropping a flash memory drive into your lap. You look at him witheringly. "I should start charging you."

"I don't have the time to keep eyes on all the leads I need to. Help me out a little." Red Robin smiles, a sharp grin that seems to glint in the darkness of your apartment.

"I did," you emphasize. "I've helped you out for weeks. When are you gonna have enough of me, Red?"

"You watch the news, I'm sure." He ignores your question. "The intel you're helping me get is doing real damage to the drops trade. You're making Gotham a better place. You're doing something good here."

"Should I pull out the pompoms or are you done with the cheerleading speech?" You shoot back dryly.

"C'mon, please. Just… give me a little something. Help me out here," Red Robin slides off the arm of your couch so that he can kneel in front of you, propping his chin on his hand and looking at you imploringly through his mask.

"Don't grovel. It freaks me out," you say. He laughs. Your heart thumps at the sound in a way you hate.

"Please…?"

"Fine. Just - get up, will you?" You snap as he pulls himself up to his feet. The way he stands in front of you, towering over your sitting form with his arms crossed menacingly, you faintly remember in the back of your head that you should be afraid of him. The moonlight from your windows lights his silhouette like a halo, his face hidden from you as you stare up at him. He could hurt me, you think. Why hasn't he, yet?

"I'm not going to hurt you," he says plainly.

"Excuse me?" You shift, wishing you had a mask of your own.

"You can say no to me. Give me back the drive and I'll leave. You'll never see me again." Your eyes flit over Red Robin's face at his words, wishing desperately that you could see his face so that maybe you could begin to guess what's going on in his mind. But he stays standing, shrouded in the darkness of night as he looks down on you, his posture straight and his muscles taut. He's… offended, you think maybe. Huh.

"If I thought you were going to hurt me, I wouldn't be so apt to keep letting you into my home," you say softly. The muscles of his forearms tighten where his arms are crossed and you wince internally at the words you chose. Wrong answer, you think. Somewhere fuzzy in the back of your mind, you consider the possibility that you might make him angry enough that he does hurt you.

"Are you letting me in? Really? Could you find a way to keep me out if you wanted to?" Red Robin points out. You freeze, your mind spinning at the insinuation of his words - at the reminder that the two of you are inherently on uneven footing. No matter how much he tries to hide his teeth behind a wolfish grin, you are still a lamb led to slaughter every time he slips through your balcony door.

"Yes," you say stubbornly. "I would ask you to leave… and you would. That's all I ever need to keep you out." Your fingers tangle in the blanket that's thrown haphazardly over your couch as you wait for his response. Tell me I'm right, you think pleadingly. Tell me you'll listen when I tell you to stay or go.

Red Robin's shoulders slouch, his posture deflating as he sags, bending to sit perched on the edge of your coffee table and look at you. He reaches forward with a slowness that has to be deliberate, using gentle fingers to brush a stray strand of hair from your face before he pulls back quickly.

"Yes," he says, and his voice rings with a conviction that you haven't heard from him before. "That's all you'll ever need. Say the word and I leave. Or… or say the word and I… stay." You release a breath at his words, leaning back to sag against your couch and look him up and down.

There's a silence that hangs between the two of you, bated breath held by Tim as he waits for your response. Please tell me to stay, he wants to beg. Please tell me you believe me. Please let me keep you safe. He watches as your eyes flit over him, mulling over his words as you make your decision. I'm a dog with a bloody muzzle, I know, but it will never be your blood on my teeth.

"Leave the drive with me," your words snap him out of his inner spiralling and Red Robin straightens, the wood of your coffee table legs shifting slightly under his weight. "I'll let you know when - if I find something."

He nods stiffly and stands, stepping over your legs easily to make his way back to your door. Your hand shooting out to grab onto his stops him in his tracks, though, and when he looks down at you, you pull back, opening your mouth to utter an apology. Before you can, though, he crouches in front of you again, reaching to take your hand back into his, his brow furrowed in sudden worry.

"Next time you come around…" you begin, and his heart thumps at the over-confident, teasing tone that's made its way back into your voice. "Don't sit on my coffee table like that. You'll break it. The couch arms, too. I have real chairs for a reason." Red Robin laughs and squeezes your hand before letting it go and standing, moving back towards your balcony door.

"I'll keep that in mind… for next time," he says, sliding the door open. Before he slips through it and into the darkness, though, he stops to look at you one last time.

"It's your fault, you know," he says plainly.

"What?"

"You never told me what your rate is."

"What are you talking about?" You sigh.

"I can't pay you… I don't know how much I owe you. You haven't told me what you're charging," he points out. You stare back at him, and although the shadows obscure his masked face once again, you find it doesn't bother you so much.

"...you don't owe me anything, Red. You never will," you say gently. He doesn't smile this time - instead, an emotional little noise gets punched out of his lungs before he nods his head, slipping out into the night and closing your door silently behind him. As you sit on the couch, turning the memory drive over in your hands, you hear the faint click of the door being locked again somehow from the outside and you smile to yourself. It doesn't seem too bad to have a wolf at your door some nights.

#tim drake #tim drake x reader #tim drake x you #tim drake imagine #tim drake fanfiction #tim drake fic #tim drake x y/n #red robin #red robin x reader #red robin x you #red robin x y/n #red robin imagine #red robin dc #timothy drake #smsn.writes

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river-bottom-nightmare · 2 years

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here's the thing: the average temperature for gotham is 60 degrees fahrenheit. in the summer, it can fight its way up to 80 degrees, chip-nailed and vicious, but more often than not, it contents to float around 40 degrees.

every time superboy flies into gotham, pointed feet landing on the paved rooftop without a sound, eyes fixed on robin and robin only, he's hit with a wave of cold immediately. shoulders hunched in his patched leather jacket, hands curled into his fingerless gloves, a tremble rocking through his muscled frame as he bounces over to robin's side. he's shivering, and he isn't supposed to be in gotham, but superboy has a habit of breaking a couple rules for robin.

"i thought you were supposed to be half superman, right superboy?" robin says. superboy wouldn't be able to see his raised eyebrow under his domino, lead-lined as it was, but it was the principle of the thing, really.

superboy shoulder-checks robin lightly, and it's like a burning hearth, like smoke curling up from his lips. robin rocks backward to keep from leaning into him "shut up. i get power from the sun, i know you know that, and you can't see shit in gotham." robin just snickers at superboy's outrage, then at the other boy's dirty look, nots very gravely as he gestures to continue.

"besides," kon says, suddenly seeming off-kilter, a whisper, a fraction more awkward, "it's just kon right now. not superboy." his eyes bore into robin's white lenses, bright blue and too electric to be human, wanting to carve away robin's mask, wanting to find a way to sync his brain with robin's, wanting robin to feel safe enough to ask him for it.

(robin, with oil-painted shame, is inching towards feeling safe enough to ask him for it.)

"not superboy, huh?"

"i'm off-duty."

robin raises his second eyebrow, then slides down to dangle his legs off the side of the building. he kicks a few pebbles loose, and tracks them as they plunge into the boundless shadows of gotham city "are you ever really on-duty? kon?"

"i'll have you know," kon says, sitting down beside him, "that hawai'i public radio ranked me as their third top favourite superhero. professional superhero, that is."

"you'd think that you'd be first, considering you used to live there and all."

"shut up."

robin just laughs.

here's the thing: it's cold in gotham. it's cold and wet and rainy, miserable more often than not. it's a lighthouse, and the sea is angry and there are no ships in sight. kon flew here straight from a golden kansas home, hair seeped in sunlight, skin buzzing with heat.

so when he shuffles over, robin can't help but lean into him, basking in the light. when kon slings an arm around robin's shoulders, robin can't help but burrow into kon's side, leeching the heat off the crook of his neck. when kon's heavy fingers drift along robin's neck and tilt his head up, asking for permission, robin can't help but lean up to kiss the heat right off kon's lips. he was warm, warm the way a crushing hug was warm, warm the way a bleeding cut was warm, warm the way staring into a sunset was warm.

and when kon would pull back a hair's width, sighing robin into his lips, robin would say, "that isn't—that isn't my name."

kon would smile, somehow knowing the way robin's eyelids would flutter when he rubbed a thumb along robin's jaw, somehow knowing the way robin's heart would paint a rhythm tattoo inside his chest every time he pulled robin close. if robin is honest with himself, he knows kon could pick him out of a faceless line-up by his calloused fingers, his hitchhiker's thumb, the arc of his waist between his hard hips alone.

then, kon would say, "s'okay, rob. tell me when you want, tell me when you're able. i'll be here," and pull robin into another kiss.

here's the thing: the very thought of sharing his secret identity sends an icy shiver down robin's spine. the words tim drake dance along his tongue, then dash back down his throat, leaving frostbite in their wake, leaving him frozen cold, terrified. but kon, sunlight-drenched and clementine kissed as he is, seems to warm him up a little more every day.

--

superheroes telling other ppl their secret identity is a metaphor for coming out change my mind

anyway some classic timkon feels for pride!

tag list: @woahajimes @birdy-bat-writes @subtleappreciation @catxsnow @pricetagofficial @screennamealreadyused @clamityganon @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridge @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy @red-hood-redemption @capricorn-stark @batshit-birds @buticaaba @comics-observer @newsical @queenofbooknerds @queen-of-ice494

#scribbles from the swamp #tim drake #red robin #robin #kon-el #conner kent #superboy #timkon #dc #tim drake fic #red robin fic #robin fic #kon-el fic #conner kent fic #superboy fic #timkon fic #dc fic

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pekejscatbed · 7 months

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Please Don't Leave (i need you more than you need me) | Jason Todd & Tim Drake

info/warnings: Tim Drake Angst, Tim Drake Has Issues, Tim Drake is Not Okay, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim Drake Gets a Hug, Tim Drake is Red Robin, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Protective Jason Todd, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Angst, Light Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Crying, Men Crying, Panic Attacks, Hugs, Platonic Cuddling

batman masterlist

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It's weird, Tim and Jason's relationship.

When they'd first met, Tim had been looking up to him for years, long before ever taking up the mantle of Robin himself, but as the new Robin, Jason hated him. Jason saw Tim as nothing but his replacement, just some kid who took his place after he died- after Joker murdered him- and he was forgotten. So, Jason tried to kill him. Jason beat the kid to a bloody pulp and Tim's infatuation turned to hated as the trauma set in.

A few years have passed since then, and while the two aren't constantly at each other throats and can actually have a civil conversation and crack trauma jokes that would make anyone else uncomfortable, the scars are still there. Neither of them has forgotten their first encounter and Tim will never forget the pain.

So, this is definitely a surprise. 'This' being Tim, still in his Red Robin gear, curled up on the old, ratty couch in Jason's safe house when the latter gets back after a long night of anti-heroism.

"The fuck are you doing here, Tim?" Jason takes off his helmet and domino mask, setting them both on the small, wooden table in the center of the room. He isn't mad, not really. For all he knows, Tim could be injured, and the safe house could've been closer than the Batcave- it's happened before (it amazes Jason how the younger always gets in without setting off any of the multiple traps, and also worry's him- should he set more, should he blow this place up and start over?). "You hurt?"

Tim doesn't respond, not verbally, and Jason almost misses the small shake of his head.

Okay, the kid doesn't wanna talk. That's fine. Jason thinks to himself as he takes off his boots, setting them next to the table. "I'm gonna go to bed, then."

(By bed, Jason really means the futon hidden away in the only room in this place other than the bathroom and the weapons vault, though that's hidden (everything else is just one big open space))

"No!" Tim jumps off the couch so fast, the movement startles Jason more than the kids broken down yelling. The kids' cowl is off, and his own domino mask is dropped to the floor when he stands, falling from his lap, and his eyes are rimmed red and wet with tears. Jason only now realizes that Tim is shaking, violent shudders wracking through his whole body. He's in front of the older in an instant, shaky hands gripping onto Jason's jacket, and he looks up at his adoptive brother with a desperate plea in his watery eyes.

Jason fights back the urge to shove Tim off of him, maybe flip him over his shoulder, the sudden touch activating his fight or flight response- he has to stop himself from leaving too, because the situation is awkward and Jason's never been all that good at comforting people, but his little brother (when had he started thinking of Tim as family?) needs him so he stays, slowly wrapping his arms around Tim.

Tim slumps against Jason's body, who easily supports his weight, and sobs into his chest. Pleas of "don't leave me" and the like slip through Tim's sobs, but Jason gives no response, instead just holding his brother close and letting him cry himself out.

They stand there for a while until Tim's sobs die down and his body stops tremoring so violently, though he's still somewhat shaky, and he's taking deep breaths against Jason's chest. With Tim finally calming down, Jason starts to pull away, but Tim's grip on him tightens and his breathing quickens up; Jason holds him close once more, rubbing small circles into his back, and takes deep inhales, followed by slow exhales for Tim to match.

As Tim copies Jason's breathing, Jason starts whispering, voice quiet as so not to startle the younger. "Are you okay?" He pauses. "Never mind. Wanna stay the night?"

Truthfully, Jason doesn't think Tim is in any state to go back to the manor and considering the whole "please don't leave me" thing, he probably doesn't want to. Not now, at least. A nod against Jason's chest proves him right.

"You gotta let go, Timmy, so we can get to the bedroom, okay?" Tim whines in response, making no move to let go. "Alright. Want me to carry you, then?"

A small nod, and Jason is telling Tim to jump, then he's picking up Tim like he weighs nothing, his hands under the others' legs, which are now wrapped around his waist. Slowly, Jason walks them both to the small room he calls a bedroom, filled with his futon, a small dresser/nightstand, and a radio plugged into the wall.

When the older leans over to carefully drop Tim onto the futon, he's met with some resistance, though Tim (reluctantly) lets go when Jason promises he's just going to change them both out of their… 'work' uniforms and then Tim can cling onto him all he wants.

The younger curls up on the bed as Jason peels off his armor and lets it fall to the floor, then grabs a pair of sweats and a tank to change into, grabbing another pair of sweats and a t-shirt for Tim. Speaking of, when Jason tells Tim to sit up so he can slip off his suit, Tim actually listens, making Jason's job here much, much easier. The older then shimmies the sweatpants up Tim's legs, holding back a snort at how loose they are on him, then pulls the shirt over Tim’s head, this time openly snorting at how small Tim looks in it compared to Jason himself; Tim gives him a half assed glare as he lies back down, though the glare is quickly forgotten as Jason tells him to scoot over, then lies down next to him.

Tim is immediately clinging to his older brother again, head on his chest and arm around his waist, and Jason wraps his arms around Tim's back in return. And really, the cuddling (Jason will deny it's cuddling) is making it easier for both men to actually fit on the small futon that definitely is not meant for a fully grown man and his nineteen-year-old brother.

Both of them fall asleep in the comfort of each other's arms, and Jason is happy to not have any nightmares plague his rest for once.

------

When Jason wakes up the next morning, Tim is gone, though the space next to him is still warm, and there's a note on his dresser/nightstand: invest in a bed for fucks sake.

#Tim drake #Jason Todd #red robin #red hood #hurt/comfort #light angst #angst with comfort #angst with a happy ending #platonic cuddles #men crying #tim drake fanfiction #tim drake fic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #Batman #batfam #batbros

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indulgentdaydream · 3 months

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Just updated The Amalgamation That is The Innerworkings of Tim Drake on ao3!!

#tim drake #red robin #tim drake fic #jason todd fic

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loreoftheforgotten · 6 months

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PSSST

here’s a link to all my whumptober fics

theres even a secret one that only ao3 users can see

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