#Tim: whoah | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jinmukangwrites · 3 months

Text

Handcuffed/Manacled

Fandom: Nightwing, Batman - All Media Types

Rating: M

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Tags: Self-Sacrificing Dick Grayson, Hurt Dick Grayson, Hurt Tim Drake, Tim Drake Whump, Dick Grayson Whump, Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Blood and Injury, Dick Grayson-centric, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Hopeful Ending, Hostage Situations, Near Death Experiences, Protective Tim Drake

Ao3

Summary: What started as a quiet night quickly turned sour when Tim's comms cut off without warning.

----

"I think I have a pimple on my chin, and I'm about to get violent about it."

Dick laughed, swinging under a fire-escape—it creaked, but he had swung under this particular fire-escape enough times to know it could hold his weight.

At the other end of the comms, Tim sounded bored. Well, he must be bored if breakouts, and not the fun jail kind, had suddenly become the topic of conversation.

"It'll get better when you're older," Dick replied, smirking to himself, his eyes scanning the regular shady alleyways of Blüdhaven as his grapple retracted, then shot off to the next practiced ledge with a jolt down his arm. It looked like it would be a quiet night tonight, not a crime worth punishing to be seen.

"I'm literally almost 20, N," Tim replied, deadpanned. "Also you can't talk. I'm pretty sure you've never had a pimple in your life."

"Not on my face, not really," Dick agreed. He could hear Tim's weight land heavily on puddled Gotham streets through the other end of the comm. Seemed like he, too, was having a slow night. "But bacne? Whoah-boy. Pretty sure I have one right below my left shoulder-blade, it's driving me nuts."

"You said it gets better when you're older."

"I'm still young."

Tim snorted. Despite the empty streets being the only one to see it, Dick grinned.

"You literally asked me what gyatt meant the other day."

"In my defense, I said I'm young, not that I'm twelve. Believe it or not, I'm also not terminally on TikTok."

Tim laughed, and Dick followed.

It wasn't often he could just hang out like this. Somebody was always busy, or somebody didn't have the social battery, or was getting over an argument, or was doing something with someone else, or there was a storm over Gotham and the connection didn't hold despite the constant fixes Barbara made to the system, bless her. Honestly, when he contacted Tim, the response "yeah I'm free" was a very pleasant surprise, especially after he'd just gotten a "not tonight" from Cassandra a few minutes before.

"So, how's it going on your end?" Dick asked. He let the swing of his grapple slow as the ground came up. He took a few running steps, carefully bending his knees, coming to a stop on solid ground as the grapple fully retracted into his escrima stick. He attached the useful weapon on his back next to its pair.

Tim sighed. "Is it bad I'm almost hoping someone's getting mugged with every empty alleyway I check?"

"Probably," Dick responded lightly, "but also, same."

"Of course I don't want anyone getting hurt, you know? But like, maybe just a little bit of threatening? Some yelling? Some asshole with too much ego needing to be knocked down a peg? I'm itching to kick someone in the face and I don't think that's something people should itch to do."

"Trust me," Dick responded, "I think I'd rather hear gimme all your money than you won the lottery right now."

Hindsight had Dick wishing he had some wood to knock on.

Tim started to ramble about how the most interesting thing he'd seen that night was a cat messing with a rat outside a doughnut shop, and Dick was strolling the quiet streets, a city away, a thirty minute drive at midnight, listening with a smile. It could have continued like this the rest of the night, and he would have been content. He would have said goodbye to Tim, stumbled into his apartment, did some stretches, ate a toaster strudel, then gone to bed happy. Bored, but happy. Glad no one needed saving, Nightwing wasn't a factor in life or death, he could rest, knowing the quiet nights were rare and precious.

Tim cut off in the middle of his ramblings, and tonight wasn't rare or precious.

"Red Robin?"

"I heard something. Just a sec."

He was whispering, voice tight, Dick could almost imagine the narrowed eyes behind white domino lenses.

Warm pressure washed over him, the physical feeling of a happy moment turning stale, starting at his ears, settling threateningly in his stomach.

Nearly a minute passed, Dick had to remind himself to breathe during it.

"Huh," Tim said, finally, voice shaken a little. "I could have sworn I-"

Static.

Dick was on the emergency channels before his heartbeat could finish its first stutter.

"Oracle," Dick said, "I've lost contact with Red Robin."

-o0o-

And that was how the nightmare started.

The last time he sped this quickly across the distance spreading between Blüdhaven and Gotham—often times too small, at times like this, too long—was when Damian had fainted at school. Nothing serious, apparently he had forgotten to eat and it was a hot day.

This was serious. Bab's was able to report Tim's vitals spiking, then slowing into unconsciousness mere seconds before any signal between Tim and the family cut off.

Every bat in the city scrambled. A fine oiled machine, like students practicing drills for school invaders; a machine that shouldn't have to be this oiled.

Dick took the west, ignoring how his ankles ached and his back ached and his jaw ached. Fingers creaked, ribs squeezed, stomach clenched. The sun would rise soon. Maybe a citizen or two would wake up for work and see a bat out and be baffled by it for a moment, then wonder if it's a sort of bunker down and call out kind of day.

He followed Tim's footsteps, checking alleyways, passing the doughnut shop with a rat corpse in the gutter, looking up at the pipes and gargoyles that had scratches from grappling hooks, some fresh, some very not.

The sun rose. It hung in the sky. It set.

Nothing.

He needed to eat. Everyone needed to eat. Damian was the only one resembling someone who could stand on their own two feet and it wasn't from a lack of caring but more from a responsible butler forcing the kid to go to school. Damian wasn't happy about that, the family had to move to a different channel while Damian argued over the comms for a solid 30 minutes.

Dick kept returning to the alleyway Tim's last location had pinged from, like if he looked again, Tim would be there that time. He was exhausted, to put it plainly. He was tired to the core, from the lack of sleep, and from once again, fearing for the life of a younger sibling. His eyes desperately wanted to close, but he knew that if he stopped looking even for a second, he'd see Jason's grave, feel Damian's blood, hear the silence coming from Stephanie's empty chair.

Not Tim. Not Tim too. Not Tim again.

Can't the universe let him catch a break? Or, at least, let it be him instead?

A grim thought. He had to keep looking.

There wasn't any sign of a struggle. No Red Robin branded weapons stuck in the brick walls, no dented dumpsters, not a single speck of blood. It was like Tim was kidnapped by the fabric of reality itself; glitched and removed, plucked out of thin air.

The irony and deja vu wasn't lost on him.

He sighed to himself, searching around the alleyway, poking at the same clueless details until maybe his fingers would leave indents in concrete.

Something blinked. Faint. Red. Rolled under a dumpster, near unnoticeable.

Dick noticed it. His blood ran cold.

He could hear Alfred get on the comms, demanding everyone return home for dinner before they do Tim no good by letting exhaustion win, but he ignored it for a second as he crept to the dumpster, reaching his hand under to pull out a small device no larger than the tip of his pointer finger.

Tim's comm.

He'd checked under the dumpster before. Several times. This wasn't there before.

It had to have been returned here. Purposely.

It was blinking like it was connected to something, which was impossible because Oracle said the signal was completely disconnected, and only she could connect it back to the family again.

He took out his own comm, wiped off alleyway water from Tim's, then replaced it in his ear.

"Is anyone there?" Dick asked, not knowing if he wanted an answer.

A second passed, he felt like he'd throw up.

A shaking voice responded. "N, go to these coordinates. Come alone, or he's going to kill me."

-o0o-

Dick went alone. He was instructed to keep on the earpiece, and that the kidnapper would know if he muted to warn the others.

The coordinates lead him to no special location at all. A thirty minute walk from where Tim had initially disappeared, a nook under the freeway where flood water could drain.

Not a soul awaited him there.

A blue backpack, abandoned—no, purposely placed—awaited him there.

Nothing was good about this. Tim had sounded weak and frightened to his trained ears, brave to anyone else. Dick felt like getting stabbed would hurt less than this.

He didn't care. He didn't know what else to do.

Tim had long since stopped responding to Dick after giving the initial instructions—the comm was mostly for the kidnapper to keep Dick under control—but he didn't need instructions to know that whatever happened next involved that blue bag.

He stepped up to it, hands long past the point of shaking that they're deathly stable as he unzipped it.

A device about the size of a pen greeted him. Thin, sleek, nothing special besides the tip being a very threatening button the size of a push pin.

"Gloves off," Tim whispered. "I- Nightwing- don't do it- I'm-" he cut off with a shout. The line went silent.

Dick didn't hesitate to take his gloves off and press the button.

Two things happened. The first was quicker, while the second was more physical.

The earpiece shorted out, and anything powered on Dick's body—his removed comm, his tracker, the sensors to his vitals, even the batteries to his escrima sticks—went completely dead.

He had just a millisecond to process that before nausea washed over with a prick to his thumb.

His vision swam, and he collapsed, black consuming him before he hit the ground.

-o0o-

"Just my luck," A modulated voice said exactly as Dick found himself waking up enough to comprehend words being said to him, "I've always wanted to meet Nightwing."

His arms were behind his back, wrists locked with tight bands of cuffed metal. Gravity told him he was sitting up, spine slumped against a wall, but sharp tugs in his hair told him that a hand clutched the strands, holding his neck up. He knew before he opened his eyes that the face of the speaker would greet him.

Or well, the helmeted face. Close enough.

Dick glared through the grogginess of fading unknown drugs. His face felt numb, tongue heavy, but the movement at least assured him that there was still pressure over his eyes.

The attacker regarded him back, faceless, unmoving, as if waiting for Dick to make the first move.

Dick didn't have a lot of options in terms of first moves.

So he took the moment to get a better grasp of the situation. He had a lot of practice with this kind of situation, it didn't take long to assess himself, the villain of the week, and the surrounding room.

He, himself, was fine. A little woozy from whatever drug was shot into his system, but it was fading with only slight lingering feelings of nausea, numbness, and weakness to the extremities. His hands were pressed between his back and the wall, his shoulder blades touching the faded wallpaper, making it clear his weapons had been removed. Other places that held weapons and tools were suspiciously light.

The person in front of him had a large, muscular build, in-between the range of Jason to Slade. Tall, closer to seven feet than six, combat boots, armored fabric suit, a gun strapped to a thigh the size of a basketball. The suit was nondescript, black, with the occasional gray accent, the armored fabric mixing with armored plates where organs are concerned. The helmet was nothing more than a glorified biker-helmet that wanted to look sci-fi.

All signs pointed to human and male, though meta wasn't ruled out yet. All Dick knew for sure was that this wasn't a run of the mill criminal; maybe something closer to a bounty hunter, or assassin, or some disgruntled asshole with a vendetta and actual knowledge of how to carry that vendetta out. Truly, the Slade vibes were strong with this one.

Dick couldn't see any other weapons on the attackers body, but granted, he was sitting on his ass against a withering wallpapered wall, head held up by a fist of hair, a helmeted figure crouched down staring back.

Behind the figure, however, was where Dick's eyes settled. The room was small, a hundred square feet give or take, comprised of cement floor, walls water-rotted and peeling, a door chipped and unkept. Between Dick and the door, however, was a collapsed body, dressed in familiar colors, cape tattered and clothes twisted.

Tim.

He laid curled on his side, hair waterfalling over an exhausted face. His arms were wrenched behind his back, no doubt restrained. What made Dick's gut squirm was the trail of blood dripping down an obviously broken nose, over Tim's tight lips, down his cheeks, puddled on the ground.

Fresh.

Dick's face must have done something with that observation, because his captor chuckled and turned their visor at Tim. "Poor boy needed come company."

Even modulated, the extra words allowed Dick to pinpoint the accent as American, West Coast. Not necessarily useful information, but hey, accents sometimes identified.

Dick tore his eyes away from Tim and clenched his fists tight enough the cuffs dug into his tendons.

"What do you want, you bastard."

An amused huff. "Nothing you can give me. I have you right where I need you."

"Why here? Why us?"

"The boy happened to be the first one I saw. You happened to be the first one to find my next trap. This isn't personal, bat."

Frustration pooled. "If you think this will get you Batman, or-"

The man laughed, letting go of Dick's hair and standing up. "Batman isn't my goal. I just need you here."

This can't be good. A villain wanting to get at Batman is one thing, a villain not caring about Batman is another.

Why capture them if not to interrogate them?

The man stepped away from Dick, and Dick felt his whole body tense as he stopped above Tim's prone form. Tim swallowed, then glared up at their captor.

Then their captor, with no warning, lifted a leg and nailed Tim in the stomach.

Tim choked off a breathless scream, and Dick found himself on his feet in the next moment. His vision, however, jolted, and his legs twisted around each other, tripping him up and having him crumple disgracefully to the hard floor with an irritated growl. Damn side effects of damn drugs.

Their captor chuckled, amused, and stepped over to Dick while Tim coughed for breath. A large hand wrapped around Dick's bicep then dragged him back to the other side of the room. Instead of just leaving him there, however, his hands were pushed down to the floor and the chain between his cuffs were locked onto something solid and unmoving. Some sort of bolt.

"Don't worry, it'll be over soon," The man said, stepping away from Dick, sounding full of himself and confident. The prick. "Play nice, and you both will get out of this alive."

Then, he left, stepping over Tim and leaving out the door, a lock sounding in his wake.

"Red," Dick called, the moment they were alone. "Hey, look at me."

Tim, his expression more out of it than what Dick's seen in years, turned his face toward Dick. "N... 'm sorry."

What had that monster done to Tim?

"No sorry," Dick said, forcing his voice to remain calm as he ran another scan along Tim's body. Nothing visibly violent greeted him back, nothing but the broken nose. Perhaps everything else was hidden under his suit, and perhaps the cocktail of a weak immune system, drugs, and captivity, didn't mix well. "I'm here now. Talk to me, what happened before I got here?"

Tim took a deep breath, stealing his expression and shifting slightly. "I- not much. He kicked me around a bit, only took me out of the room once to use the bathroom—blindfolded. Then he told me to... tell you to find his trap."

"Nothing about his goals? No questions or anything?"

Tim shook his head, then winced, spitting some blood from his lips. "Nothing explicitly said. I... think he has a partner outside, and I think we're just distractions."

"For what?"

Tim shrugged with the shoulder he wasn't laying on, looking frustrated and tired. At least the more he talked, the more awake he started to look. "It's a good plan if we are just distractions. When was the last time you slept?"

Ouch.

"I don't think anyone's slept," Dick responded softly, feeling like an idiot for being so predictable. If a distraction was the goal, then them both being captured will run the whole family down to the bones, cause them to lock up inwards and assume another will be next, focus in on the areas they disappeared from.

It could leave any number of targets around Gotham completely ignored.

"At least," Tim continued, "I think he's not going to kill us when they get what they want."

No, helmets and voice modulators and blindfolded bathroom trips didn't usually predict a homicidal villain.

"And if they don't get what they want?"

A beat of silence. "When I tried to convince you to not come... he broke my nose. No hesitation."

Great.

"Alright. We either hope they get what they want and let us go..." Dick looked around the walls, a single camera blinked back, no microphone. He lowered his voice. "Or we escape."

"How?" Tim asked, his voice going unimpressed, hinting that the boy had already been trying that.

Dick slowly sat up, angling his body so it didn't look too obvious he was hiding his hands from the camera. He wrapped his fingers around his anchor to the floor, the bolt wobbled a bit.

"Bolt's loose. I'll get my hands free, then I'll get us both out of here."

Tim relaxed a bit, relief a visible wave. "Sorry, but I'm glad you're here."

"It's okay," Dick responded, throwing a reassuring smile. "I'm glad too."

He'd rather be here with Tim than back outside, not knowing.

At least here, he had a chance to protect Tim.

-o0o-

The kidnapper, which Tim and Dick had worked together to nickname "Visor", returned about two hours later. Dick couldn't help but tense when the door opened while Tim gave a hard glare from where he had worked himself up into a seated position.

"The bats are widening their search a little too close to where I don't want them," Visor said as he walked in. "I need some incentive to drive them away."

Tim stiffened, his eyes traveling over to something Visor held, previously hidden from vision but now fully in view.

Dick stiffened too.

One of his escrima sticks was held in the enemy's hand, and the reason why wasn't hard to guess.

It wouldn't be hard to lure someone away from somewhere you didn't want them to be if you plant something elsewhere that would catch attention.

"You really think Batman would fall for something as obvious as that?" Dick asked, putting bravado into his voice and succeeding in catching Visor's full attention. "He's probably already figured out that this whole kidnapping thing is a distraction, planting something like that is just going to make it obvious that there's somewhere you don't want him to be."

He wished he could see Visor's face as the large man blankly observed him for a moment, it made it all the more unnerving when Visor broke into a low chuckle. "This is what I admire about you, Nightwing," he said, a smile in his voice, bringing his hands in front of his chest and running his fingers over the stolen weapon. "And what I was most looking forward to when I found it was you who fell for my second trap."

Cold fear settled in his belly. "What?"

"Your martyrism."

Then he turned and hit Tim across the jaw with Dick's escrima, causing the younger hero to fall onto the ground with a cut off shout, the blow coming as a surprise, the thud of his shoulder hitting the cement sounded like a distant roar of thunder to Dick's suddenly ringing ears.

"Hey- HEY!" Dick snarled, he couldn't help it, if Tim was shocked by the sudden violence, then Dick was caught in the whole lightning storm. He went to his knees, straining against the cuffs and the loose anchor. "I'm talking to you!"

Visor laughed, and it dug the pit deeper. "Now this is the cherry on top."

Dick had met plenty of sadists. He'd been held hostage by many of them. And yet, they usually took the bait, they usually ignored who Dick wanted them to ignore and went after him just to wipe his arrogance off his face. Sure, it cost him a straight nose, a scar here and there, a few weeks bedrest, but it was always worth it, because it meant he was the only one who got hurt. He did his job as the first Robin. As Nightwing. As the oldest brother.

But Visor had anticipated that, and instead of taking Dick's bait, he immediately found that the exact way to hurt both hostages the most was to keep Nightwing perfectly untouched.

He hit Tim again, but Tim didn't shout. He probably figured out Visor's goal was to make this hurt for Nightwing and had decided that keeping stony and quiet and brave would hurt Dick less. Tim had been through worse, after all. They all have. A beating with a glorified stick was nothing.

Somehow, it hurt more to see Tim glance at Dick, forgiveness and bravery and determination shining through those white lenses, than it would have been to hear him scream.

Dick wanted to scream.

He met Tim's eyes, and grinded his jaw shut.

By the time Visor had a satisfactory spray of blood across the escrima stick and left, humming to himself, Dick's wrists were slick and red beneath bands of silver, the anchor looser without him even intentionally trying.

And Tim laid still on the floor.

-o0o-

Hours passed again. Tim remained unconscious for most of it, even after Dick had tried and tried again to stir him with voice alone.

He watched Tim breathe, terrified one lungful would be the last, images of corpses and funerals flashing behind his eyelids every time he blinked.

He couldn't do this again. He couldn't endure another sibling's funeral. A part of him died with every one—there couldn't be much more of him left. Them coming back to life didn't revive those parts of him. Those parts haunted him in his nightmares, and if Tim... if Tim didn't survive this one... if Tim didn't survive because some fucker knew it would hurt more to watch... those parts would drag him under, and he knew he wouldn't try to swim back up.

He worked at the bolt holding him down. Visor wouldn't have another chance to hit Tim again. When he came back in the room, Dick was going to end this.

Near the end of the third hour, Tim stirred, groaning.

Dick quickly called for his attention, and Tim, bless him, did his best to respond.

"D..ik?"

His jaw was swollen. A tooth had been spat out a blow or two before the blow that knocked him out.

Dick didn't even care about identities right now.

"Hey, hey, you're okay. I'm gonna get us out of here."

Tim took a few deep breaths through his mouth, spitting blood onto the floor, not daring to move what must be an aching body.

"... kay..."

"Just hold on a little longer. You're being so brave. Just a little longer, I promise."

Tim, half conscious, in pain, put on something that must be intended to be a brave face, but it only broke Dick's heart more. Tim lost the fight with consciousness, and fell back into what couldn't be a painless slumber.

About an hour later, Visor returned.

The anchor wasn't loose enough to escape yet, and Dick had to swallow his panic.

Even with the helmet, Visor didn't look happy.

"How did they know," he growled, striding forward and grabbing Dick by the neck. "How did you tell them."

The pressure wasn't strong enough to choke, but it was just shy of becoming so. Dick should feel afraid of that, and yet, he only felt relief that in Visor's true anger, he walked straight past Tim.

"I told you," Dick hissed, the fingers oh so close to squeezing, he could feel it inside his throat. "You're an idiot to think they wouldn't catch on."

The replying sneer was audible, physical in a twitch of fingers. "That's where you're wrong, we planned for this. I have two hostages, you're my bargaining chip for a prisoner exchange."

Dick thinned his lips to keep from vocalizing that in the end, when it came to the Batfamily, prisoner exchanges never worked in the enemy's favor.

"I just have to show them I'm serious first," Visor continued, his voice lowering to an eerie promise, like rolling fog in ancient mountains. "I only need one hostage."

The words processed milliseconds too late, Visor had shoved Dick away and had walked back toward Tim, kneeling, hands reaching towards his younger brother's neck.

Something untamable tore out of Dick's throat, taking control over his body. His heart was a beast clawing at his ribcage, panic swallowing him whole. As Visor began to choke Tim, the boy too unconscious to give more than the body's sluggish, natural reaction, Dick began to pull at his chains, at the anchor, the pain in his wrists meaning nothing to the mere feet between him, and the monster killing his little brother.

"You fucking bastard," he roared, vocal chords straining with his wrists, his own shouting thousands of miles away, drowned out with the suffocating panic and the ringing in his ears. "Touch him and I'll kill you!"

Visor ignored him. Tim was twitching, eyes opening with pain and confusion, legs jolting and arms tugging at his own handcuffs.

Seconds passed. Seconds that engrained themselves into Dick's soul like an unwanted tattoo. Finally, as Tim's face turned red under the blood smeared on his cheeks, as his eyes began to flutter back shut, the anchor fell loose.

It was as easy as breathing to contort his body in a way that allowed his wrists to pass under his legs and in front of his body. He was running the next instant, crashing into Visor, bodies colliding in shouts and struggles, shoulders hitting the cement away from Tim.

Tim erupted into very painful coughs, and Dick... Dick couldn't bring the monster back in.

His fists wanted impact. His fingers wanted pressure. His skin wanted blood that belonged to the man below him.

Visor didn't make the bloodlust easy. He put his weight into struggling. There was a reason this man was able to capture not one, but two bats within their own city. He fought back like a demon fresh out of Hell, his own blows landing with promised swelled purple bruises across his jaw, shoulders, neck, stomach. At some point, he even managed to kick Dick off with a heavy boot, knocking Dick across the small room and slamming his back into the water rotted walls. He said something, something prideful and angry and arrogant, something that turned to static to Dick's angry ears.

He went to kick Dick in the stomach before Dick could get back up, but while Visor fought like a demon out of Hell, Dick had an older devil inside of him, one that's been caged for much, much longer.

Dick will make him wish he went for the gun.

The pain meant nothing, it didn't slow him down as he scrambled to his feet and jumped onto the larger man, wrapping his legs around his torso and flipping him down onto the ground, back under Dick, at the perfect angle for Dick to bring his bound hands up and down over and over and over again until the helmet cracked, visor shattered, splinters going into bloodied hands below bloodied wrists controlled by a bloody hatred that, after this, he knew would haunt him.

Visor tried to fight back, and he tried until he couldn't. He tried until his helmet fell off and his face was exposed, cheekbones cut, nose cracked, jaw loose, eyes terrified and half-lidded and losing focus.

Dick didn't stop.

He wanted Visor dead.

He didn't stop until a body crashed into his own, arms large and strong wrapping around his waist and tearing him from Visor and pinning him down to the ground, heavy hands on his shoulder blades, pinning his bound hands between the cement and his heaving stomach. Dick struggled, brain screaming at the sudden change.

"Get Red out of here, B!" A voice shouted above him, "I got him!"

The voice was familiar. Through blurred eyes, the form that stooped down to Tim was familiar too.

Batman undid Tim's restraints and carefully lifted the limp body into his hands, eyes barely casting a second torn glance back at Dick, who was completely pinned under Jason's weight, before leaving the room.

Dick breathed. He breathed like he'd been deprived of air for hours on end, windpipe bursting open, the edges fading.

His brain caught up with him. Jason had positioned himself perfectly, almost purposely, to obscure Dick's view to Visor. He didn't release Dick, and Dick knew why.

Jason understood this anger. This fury. This rage that took everything that made you you and replaced it with something you wouldn't recognize in the mirror. He kept Dick pinned, not speaking, not accusing, not comforting, just there until Duke and Cass arrived to drag Visor out of the room, eyes very carefully avoiding Dick like if they looked, everything they thought they knew about him would be destroyed and replaced with something unstomachable.

When they left, Jason jumped off like Dick was on fire, and Dick scrambled away like he was acid.

Silence filtered between the two of them. Jason stood near the door, as if afraid Dick would bolt, but in all honesty, Dick didn't have even a fraction of the energy to do something like that, even if the anger hadn't suddenly been replaced with exhaustion and self-hatred.

"Was he breathing?"

"Tim? Or Zeek?"

Zeek. That was his name? Of course they figured that out too.

"Tim first."

"Yeah, B has him back at the cave. Alfred's got him stable."

Dick swallowed. How long had he been here? How long had Jason been here making sure Dick didn't murder someone?

"Zeek is also alive, GPD has him handcuffed to a gurney on the way to the hospital."

Dick brought his knees to his chin... and he could only bring himself to nod.

Jason approached a second later and finally got the cuffs unlocked around Dick's shredded wrists. As he bandaged them, talked to him about getting him back to the cave... Dick felt nothing.

-o0o-

"Hey."

"... Hey."

"You weren't answering your phone, so," Tim shrugged, looking all too comfortable and normal standing in the entrance doorway of Dick's apartment.

"Tim, I'm..." Dick had his hand behind his neck, wrists achy. He regretted opening the door, he thought it was the landlord or something. "You look good."

Makeup covered the bruises on his neck, that much was obvious, and Tim wore a high collar hoodie. Everything else looked about as healed as Dick's wrists.

"Yeah," Tim smiled, pushing his way inside. "A few weeks of Alfred-enforced-bedrest can do that. Finally escaped."

"Tim, now really isn't a good time," Dick said as Tim took off his shoes and raided the freezer.

"Knew you'd have some," he said victoriously, ignoring Dick and pulling out a tub of ice cream. "You always have a stash. What are you feeling? I'm feeling a Lord of the Rings marathon."

Dick sighed, and closed the door. "I don't have the extended."

"That's alright," Tim pulled two bowls out of Dick's cupboards and set the tub of ice cream on the counter to thaw. "I brought them."

"Tim, what is this?"

"I think you know," Tim said lightly. "Bruce keeps saying that space is what you need, but I think ice cream will help quicker."

"I'm fine. It's you I'm worried about."

"Liar. Well, that first bit is a lie."

"I'm dealing."

"With me, and ice cream, and Lord of the Rings."

Dick, defeated, sank into the sofa and grabbed the remote. "You're impossible."

"No, I just know you. You blame yourself for me getting hurt, and you blame yourself for not getting us out of there. I also know you want to wallow in your guilt for as long as you can, and you know the second I tell you I don't blame you, it's not your fault, you're human and you're a victim too, yes I know you still blame yourself so I'll forgive you for you, etcetera etcetera you won't be able to wallow in the guilt. Hence, the ignored phone-calls. Hence, ice cream. Lord of the Rings."

Dick sighed. "You can say that, but I still feel awful, Timbers."

"That's okay," Tim said, joining Dick on the sofa, handing him a bowl of ice cream, and pulling out the first DVD of Lord of the Rings, the extended version. "I'm here until you don't anymore. Keep in mind, I'm also feeling Pirates of the Caribbean."

That wormed a smile. It almost felt traitorously real. "And Star Wars?"

Tim stood up and went to the DVD player, opening the case.

"Star Trek too if you want."

"Thank you, Tim. And I'm sorry."

"I don't blame you, and believe it or not, it wasn't your fault."

He slid the disk in, and sat down next to Dick, leaning on Dick's shoulder with a content sigh, pulling his own ice-cream bowl up to his chin.

Dick couldn't help it. He melted, allowing Tim to get comfortable, allowing himself to get comfortable.

It felt vile to allow any kind of comfort, but Tim was right, they've had this rodeo before, and with quiet conversations during the quiet scenes, he wasn't surprised he felt a little better by the time they put in The Return of the King.

Not all the way. That would probably take a few more marathons, and maybe a hug, another bowl of ice-cream.

And for a whole night and most of the morning, the guilt went forgotten, and he knew it would be okay. He would be okay.

Because Tim was beside him. Breathing, alive, softly snoring as sunlight filtered through the window.

And that wasn't changing, not any time soon.

#nightwing #dick grayson #tim drake #red robin dc #fanfiction #dc comics #jin writes #hurt/comfort #whump

13 notes · View notes

yellowocaballero · 1 year

Note

asking you about jason todd 👀

OK OK OK Jason Todd HCs. Honestly, most of these could just be Jason Todd HCs in general. As usual with my AUs it's just "how I would do X character". I did a write up of him in the AU here which should explain a lot but:

Visually, he's destined to have a tall and very strong frame, despite a childhood of malnutrition. He's really racially ambiguous visually, but you can pick out some Filipino/Mexican/Black/White in there. (This is partly inspired from the comics - Jason and Bruce wondered if Lady Shiva was his Mom, which one would think they wouldn't do if he looked completely White! This was never brought up again but I thought it was interesting). He speaks a shitton of languages but they're all pidgins and Spanglish and the other language equivalents of Spanglish lol.

Victim of childhood emotional and physical neglect as a kid, and after a certain point he just started taking care of himself. But he was collectively raised by his entire apartment building, so he has really strong emotional and physical ties to community and his people. Jason's both one of those people who knows everybody, and he's one of those people you come to with your problems and helps you out. He's a fixer - he takes care of people and he's very good at it. Jason is an extremely kind and selfless person. He just cares so fucking much, despite everything.

Despite & because of all of these things (racial, parental, community) he has identity issues. He's proud of his ID as an East Ender, but he constantly struggles with who he is, what heritage and community does he belong to, and does he have one to call his own. In the East end there's a thousand different communities, and although Jason's adjacent to all of them he never really belongs in any. No matter how much he does he'll always be an outsider.

He finds guidance in these identity issues by converting to Judaism, actually! It gives him that need for history and identity and belonging that he's always looked for, and it ties him together strongly with Bruce and the family. He's the reason Bruce actually starts practicing again and it's extremely sweet and wholesome etc. Jason gets really into it, he loves philosophy and dialectics.

This confused sense of identity and belonging is why he loves Robin so much. It's also why he kind of hates Robin sometimes. He loves the Waynes and everybody bends over backwards making him feel included & loved & important & like he's a real son in the family (in a way that has never. been done before lmfaooo) and Robin is the most important and influential 'identity' in Gotham, but it also comes with a very heavy and laden history and burden of the ways it's failed before.

Robin will never really be his. Bruce will always look at Jason in the costume and see the oldest son he mismanaged and the previous Robin who died horrifically without knowing that he was loved. Jason is actually legit the favorite kid, maybe just behind Cass, jkalsdjf, and maybe although Jason Todd's always the individual and holds a unique position that's never been filled before - somebody who's actually treated like a son with open affection and great effort made towards being part of the family - as Robin his successes will never quite match up to Bruce's mistakes.

Whoah that got long jaklsdjf I'm sorry I got Lost In The Themes Sauce. That's not really Jason HCs as it is Jason's story. There's a lot more to it, but I think when you enter a broken family then family becomes important to you. I think there's nothing he ever wanted more for Bruce than for Tim to have survived, but he knows everything he has is because Tim didn't.

And then Tim tried to beat him to death lmfao #girlboss. Thanks for the ask I love the boy!

#my writing #my asks #jason todd #batfamily #batfam #i s2g i cant do the HC thing right #either theyre deeply weird or theyre just an entire story and character meta #frantically checks notes #uhhh his favorite desert is cheesecake

48 notes · View notes

burningblake · 1 year

Note

Do you think Tim and Lucy will move in together soon? There was some serious foreshadowed!

Also Tamara and Aaron live together? Seems interesting!

Hi anon! It seems that they're well on the way for that asdfg!!! Can you imagine? These two sharing an apartment? How far we've come :')

Tbh I did think that Aaron and Tamara would end up being roommates at the end of this episode with all the hints that we got. But yeah if that's on board for what's to come, it'd be really cute. They do seem that they'd have a fun sibling energy. And with Celina visiting for game nights, whoah, they could be the new Lucy-Jackson-Nolan trio (without romance though, cause I'm not sure Tamara is age-appropriate lol).

#replies #anonymous #the rookie spoilers #the rookie #chenford

19 notes · View notes

alternis · 8 months

Text

funniest part of 90s conics is Bruce going "I wont always be around forever so somebody has to take over for me amd since Jean paul and dick didn't work out... I hope it will be you, robin"

and tims reaction being an awed "whoah" rather than a loud passionate "FUCK no"

#also god this issue Tim is drawn like a middle aged man with a bowl cut

4 notes · View notes

pastelpastryblog · 2 years

Text

In love with my best friend💗 - PH-1 chapter 7

Genre: Everything (angst/fluff/ romance/violence/etc)

Main characters: Y/N (reader), PH-1/ Harry

Prev - Next

2 weeks went by and today is the day that we are able to finally see each other again, because it is the day our our trip to Ibiza. I'm super thrilled for this trip because I haven't been abroad in such a long time and all of my trips have been with my family only, so going on this trip with friends only, is so exciting to me.

- "Hello?"

- "Hey Y/N, I've searched for you all around the airport but I cant find you. Where are you?" Harry says with a worried voice.

- "Chill Harry, I told you I was in the Starbucks. You even told me to get you drink remember? Why are you so worried and jumpy. Is everything okay?

- "You know what? I'm sorry for being anxiou- ah, I see you. Let me hang up."

As I see Harry walk towards me, my eyes widened, my mouth fell to the ground. My heart started to beat really fast.

- "HARRY, ARE YOU OKAY? WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO YOUR FACE?" I say as I hold his face, examining the bruise and scratches on his face.

Harry took my hands and put them down from his face. When he looked at me, I saw that he had fear and anger gleaming in his eyes. That's when I knew that this had something to do with Kimberly.

- "Kimberly, she did this to you didn't she? answer me now Harry. She did this to you didn't she?" I say with fury in my voice.

- "She's fucking crazy. I didn't tell you about this because I didn't want to see you like this. I didn't want to worry you."

- "What did she do?"

- "Kimberly is still living in my dorm."

- "WHAT? HARRY, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" I say with disappointment in my voice. I cant believe that Harry is still with that girl. I really don't know how to feel right now.

- "She wouldn't leave Y/N. The only time that we would talk is if we're arguing. I haven't slept in the same bed as her since the day I found out about her other boyfriend. She's just lingering around me and I hate it. I hate the sight of her." He says with a voice full of anger and hurt.

- "Okay, but how did you end up like this?"

- "She heard about our trip. She refused that I leave this country with you, so she did everything that she could. She threw my biology books at me and scratched my face so that I would be afraid to leave the house with a bruised face. She thought that having a battered face would stop me from being with you. She said if she cant be with me, then nobody else can. I'm not the type to put my hands on anyone, so I didn't."

- "But Harry, why didn't you tell me? I would have been there for you"

- "I didn't tell you because it could have been dangerous for you. Kimberly really hates you and thinks that our breakup is your fault. Not to mention, it wouldn't be fair for me to ruin your mood because you have a lot on your plate. You have school, a job and your side hustle. This isn't fair to you"

- "Its not fair for me but its fair for you to get assaulted like this? Let's cancel this trip. I need to go to her. I'm going to deal with her. How dare she?" I say as I become irate, ready to leave the Starbucks.

- "Y/N, no. were already at the airport and our friends are going to be here soon, Tim just texted me. Besides, I'm looking forward for this trip because I wont be able to see Kimberly for the time being, a week of peace, quiet and fun. And most importantly, I'm looking forward to spending my time with you. Its okay Y/N, I know what I'm doing when it comes to Kimberly."

When he said that he was looking forward to spending time with me, I felt some type of way. He probably didn't mean it like that, but he made my heart flutter when he said that.

- "Fine. Do what you want" I say as I roll my eyes. out of nowhere, harry bends down to the level of my face, and slightly comes close to my face. Harry chuckles

-"Whoah!" I say as I'm shocked by how close we were from each other. My poor heart.....

- " Y/N?"

- "Uh y-yes? " I answered hesitantly and confused.

- " Do you trust me?" he says with a hopeful smile on his face, almost like he has it all planned it out.

- "I trust you" I respond with a smile spread across my face.

- "Good, now let's go and find the others. Come on!" Harry says with a slight chuckle and smile on his face.

a few moments later.

We finally met up with our friends it was so overwhelming since we haven't seen each other in a very long time. but super exciting and fun because we had really missed being in each other's presence. Andrea was there, she used to be my best friend but we fell out because she used to talk about me behind her back. She always seemed like I was her competition. anyways, It's a trip that was designed for us to have fun, so I ignored all the petty stuff she did to me and I greeted her since I didn't want it to be awkward between us.

It was finally time to board our plane and because Harry and I had booked our plane tickets together, we ended up getting seats that were close to each other. Whilst being on the plane, sitting next to Harry, I was still upset with what had happened to him. I was trying to ignore it but I felt guilty for wanting to have fun, even though Harry was clearly traumatised from what had occurred the previous night and on top of that, I was also worried that Andrea would do something petty to me on this trip. I was really tired from waking up early but I couldn't sleep because I was just I kept thinking about what Harry must have felt when Kimberly was violent towards him, so I just decided to look out the window, to distract myself. Then all of a sudden, I felt a weight on my shoulder, It was Harry's head on my shoulder.

He looked at me and said "Y/N, stop stressing and enjoy the trip. Okay? everything will be okay. Now sleep, I know how tired you are." with a smile on his face and then he closed his eyes to sleep, and so did I.

We finally land, and all of our friends are making fun of Harry and I because apparently we were holding each other whilst we slept. They kept saying that we kept this it a secret that we were a couple. I was so confused and in denial that Harry and I were holding each other in our sleep until kept saying that we were a couple, I was in denial because I didn't realise that we even did that in our sleep so i asked them if they had proof and they did, they took a picture of us whilst we were sleeping, we were really cuddling and holding hands. I felt like disappearing because it was so embarrassing, but Harry took it well and asked them to send the picture to him because he finds it "cute". I wanted to vomit, I was so red from the embarrassment but played it cool by laughing and as I was about to change the topic of the conversation but I got cut off.

- "You're all so excited about this like they're an actual couple. Harry actually has a girlfriend and her name is Kimberly." she scoffs.

- "Sorry, but you know Kimberly how?" Harry says defensively with a curious but angry face.

- "Oh my Gosh,Harry. Why are you so defensive?” Andrea laughs. "Well, she's a friend of a friend since you want to know so bad. Thats how I know her. Is it so wrong that i know her? is it a crime that I know her?"

- "It's not wrong to know her. I just wanted to know how you know her because she's not from where we grew up. So please stop trying to put words in my mouth Andrea. We're here for a good time, fix your attitude before you ruin the trip for us all." he says whilst trying to calm himself down.

- "Woah guys calm down. please. Harry, its okay. Ignore her please." I say whilst worried, because I can tell that Kimberly's name has become triggering to him.

- "Andrea back again with the bad vibes. Who invited you again?" Jake laughs, whilst slightly being irritated by Andrea. Jenica pulls Andrea away as she's the one that invited her.

- "Don't make me regret inviting you Andrea. Nobody wanted you here but I convinced everyone to bring you here because it's not nice to leave people out. Please don't ruin it for us, we haven't seen everyone in a long ass time. So keep your shit together"

- "DAMN, JENICA!" Louis shouts whilst laughing at Andrea and Jenica.

- "she's going to cause problems throughout this whole trip, isn't she?" Harry asks me.

- "ugh...yup" I replied in annoyance.

What will happen on their trip? stay tuned for the next chapter.

Prev - Next

49 notes · View notes

jwritesandrambles · 3 years

Text

“Your Heart Rate Went Up-”

Hi! Here’s a pretty old but still cute TimKon ramble. It was not until much later that I found out that Kon didn’t have super hearing. But hey, DC doesn’t care about continuity, why should I? This is a cute concept and I stand by it. This is likely OOC as it was the first thing I wrote for TimKon. I hope you enjoy though, it’s lighthearted fluff with dumb mushy tropes. _ _ _ _ _ _

Tim sat in the common area of the live-in head quarters. It was one of their rare days off. Everyone else was either relaxing, catching up on much needed sleep, or just spending a bit of time with each other. Tim has set up his laptop, streaming bad old horror movies while he did a bit of school work. His English project had been a basic sort of daily journaling thing for the past month. For anyone else it would have been simple but Tim, who spent most nights on roof tops trying to take down mafia members and not get shot, answering the questions “what did you do last night?” became daunting. Writing the same boring lie over and over. His teacher seemed suspicious and Tim was worried that his teacher was going to think he was a drug dealer, what with the suspiciously bland overused daily routine and that Tim accidentally let slip his knowledge on how to cook meth whilst writing an essay on drugs and their portrayal in media. He sighed and dropped his head in his hand, pouting at his empty page. “Hey Tim?” Tim’s head turned towards the voice. Kon leaned in the door way, his hands in the pockets of his stormy grey, lazy-day sweat pants. Kon was for once not wearing his usual Superman S t-shirt, but instead a plain black tank top. Tim was fairly certain one of Kon’s arms was thinker than Tim’s entire body. Kon made sure to remind Tim how tiny he was in comparison. It was ridiculously annoying. Kon was ridiculously annoying. He relied on nothing but his bronze and when that failed, he just let the team just clean up his messes. He was prone to being short tempered and impulsive which lead to issues on the field. When Kon wasn’t being impulsive he was- “Sorry, did I startle ya?” He asked Tim, the corner of his mouth twitching into a slight smirk. “What- no, you didn’t? Why would you say that?” Tim asked, dropping his pen into his note book. “Your heart rate went up,” Kon replied. -Annoying. Kon was still annoying. He wandered over to Tim and sat down on the couch next to him. “What’cha workin’ on?” He asked, his arm on the back of the couch behind Tim’s head. “Nothing interesting, just catching up on school work,” Tim noticed Kon’s hair was wet, and he smelled of something fruity and sweet. He must’ve just just gotten out of the shower. Tim’s eyes dipped back to his paper. Why was eye contact suddenly so hard? “That’s a pretty empty lookin’ page for catching up on homework.” “Shut up,” Tim hit Kon’s chest. “Hey! I was just gonna offer to help! I mean- I’m not great but two heads are better than one?” Tim sighed, he couldn’t really argue there. It’s not like he was getting anywhere on his own. He grabbed his note book and pen and turned to Kon. Tim hesitated for a moment. Their faces were much closer then Tim expected. “You sure you’re okay?” Kon asked looking Tim up and down quickly. “Your heart rate went up again,” he glanced over Tim’s shoulder, at his laptop screen, “Maybe give the cheesy horror movies a break.” “Y-yeah, maybe,” Tim scooted away from Kon, shutting his computer and begun to explain his homework. He handed kon his note book to Kon, “I guess my excuses are just getting kinda... dry?” He explained. “Well-” Kon began. “You’re dripping on my paper, stop leaning your wet hair over it!” Kon rolled his eyes and slumped back into the pillows, “As I was saying- what if instead of making up stuff, you just... rephrase what you did?” Tim tilted his head, confused. “Y’know,” Kon paused thinking for an example, “Well, what did you do yesterday?” “Trained with the team. We worked on hand to hand combat and fighting without powers,” Tim replied. “So write that you were doing a group work out, or at a martial arts club or something?” Kon reasoned.

Tim paused, “that’s... actually pretty helpful... thanks, Kon. Maybe you’re not the worst,” he said with a slight smile, pale blue-grey eyes meeting the krytonian’s. Maybe Kon wasn’t always t h a t annoying. Kon smiled brightly, “Good, glad,” he replied. Then he stood and stretched, “Well, my work here is done, I’ll get out of your hair and let you-“ “Wait,” Tim scrambled to his feet, “it’s nice having the company, if you’re not busy. And- I’m still not really great at this. Mind sticking around a little longer?” “Yeah, sure, I don’t mind. You don’t have to be so nervous?” “I’m not nervous?!” Tim snapped scowling. “Heart ra-“ “I stood up quickly!” “Ohmygod- if that’s all it takes, your body ain’t right,” Kon teased, sitting back on the couch. Tim groaned and rolled his eyes. “I think it’s the caffeine. It’s destroying your blood pressure.” “Do not tell me to stop drinking coffee, Kent,” Tim said punctuating the word ‘Kent,’ with an elbow to the other boy’s side. “Besides, It’s like, one cup in the morning!” he added in a grumble. Tim put the movie back on from his laptop, and started writing his English journaling, quietly checking things in with Kon every now and then. By the time the movie was over, Tim was packing up his work, pushing his pencils and paper into his bag. “You know... I’ll have to write stuff for what happens tomorrow- think you can help me out again?” He asked softly. “Yeah- sounds good,” Kon agreed. They started putting aside time each night to meet up and put on an episode of cheesy old TV shows, while Tim did his journaling for the day. Slowly, they started sitting closer together. Kon’s arm migrated from being over the back of the couch to being over Tim’s shoulders. Neither seemed to notice that their heads were closer together. If there was time left in whatever they were watching when Tim was finished writing, he would let his head rest on Kon’s shoulder. But it didn’t mean anything, right? It was just comfortable... yeah, comfortable and therefore, logical. It didn’t mean anything. If Tim fell asleep curled into Kon’s side, the krytonian didn’t dare move him. But it didn’t mean anything right? It was just the nice thing to do....yeah, nice thing to do, and Kon was a good friend, (even if his arm was getting kind of numb) and therefore, this was just polite. It didn’t mean anything. Two weeks later, Tim slumped on to the couch, head dropping immediately on to Kon’s shoulder, groaning softly. “What’s up?” Kon asked him, a hand loosely falling on Tim’s back, between his shoulder blades. “I just... something is bothering me.” “What is it? And why’d your heart rate go up?” “It didn’t!” “It did. Now tell me what’s wrong- Do you need help with more school work?” Kon asks.

Tim stat up, tucking his hair behind his ears, in a feeble attempt to keep it from falling in his face. “Yeah, um it’s not really school it’s... okay so- uh I,” Tim bit his lip. The tips of his ears were going pink.

“Are you... nervous?” Kon asked, slightly confused.

“No! Okay, yeah I am-Just-shut up for sec!” Tim slammed his palms down on his knees and took a breath. “You’ve been helping me, and I’ve been spending time with you a lot and it’s been great! I was talking to Dick and he started teasing me about liking you. As more than a friend, I mean. And it was super annoying!”

“So... your brother is getting on your ner-“ Kon began, brows furrowing.

“I’m getting there! Cause- Then I realized he was right!” Tim’s face somehow went redder than it already was, “And I do like you. And that’s weird, and I don’t really- I haven’t liked another guy before and I guess what I’m trying to say is...do you wanna go out? With me? I mean yeah of course me, that’s dumb I-”

Tim was cut off by Kon lifting his chin and pressing a kiss to his lips. If Kon thought Tim’s heart rate had been elevated before, the poor boy’s heart must’ve been on the verge of exploding. Kon pulled away, hand still lingering under Tim’s jaw. “Stop rambling, dumby. Yes, I would like to go out with you- and sorry I should’ve asked if that was okay...” Kon said, looking a little sheepish as he smiled. “I- I liked it. It was nice,” Tim was bright red, and smiling. “And you know what?” Kon asks, a little smirk appearing on face.

“What?” Tim’s pale blue eyes darted to the kryptonian’s own sky blue eyes.

Kon leaned forward again, kissing Tim’s cheek, listening to his heart, “Your heart rate went up.”

Tim laughed in embarrassment, trying to force a pout, “oh shut up!” He hit Kon’s chest lightly.

“Okay, okay,” Kon laughed, placing an arm around Tim, “so- what were your date night ideas?” He asked casually.

Tim realized he was about to have lots of new things to talk about in his journal entries for English class. His teacher would soon enough be tired of hearing about Tim’s new date, but Tim didn’t think he’d ever get tired of talking about Kon.

Not ever in a thousand years.

#fluff #just for fun #i don't know how to tag #tim drake #kon el #kon el kent #timkon #dc #dc comcis #detective comics #red robin #super boy #fanfic #jwritesfanfics #(wow yeah i made a fanfic tag for myself incase i wanna organize this blog to have other writing too whOAh)

48 notes · View notes

zeronightchance · 3 years

Text

Batman (B): Jay, Dick, Tim, come to bunker 03.

Robin and I got the Fake.

Red hood (Jason aka dead Robin): Whoah Hey, a fake reputation is all a man has.

Nightwing (Dick): Did.. did you just quote tangled?

Red Robin (Tim): For once, Jason is actually not wrong.

Robin (Damian): How would you know, Drake.

Nightwing (Dick): Are we just ignoring the fact that Jason just quoted tangled???

Batman (B): …

#batfamily #batfam #jason todd #dick grayson #tim drake #red hood #nightwing #bruce wayne #damian wayne #Robin #batman #batfam quotes

112 notes · View notes

christopher-bryant · 2 years

Text

Barry: Whoah you're looking bummed, Supey! Whats up?

Clark: Ok...so Jon is almost all grown up and I get that he's living his life and wants to spend time with his friends and not his dad. But today I asked if he wanted to catch a movie and he said that sounded lame. I shouldn't be too hurt by it because he's a teen. Its an innocent comment. I just miss being the fun, cool dad he wanted to hang out with.

Bruce: Boo friggin hoo.

Barry: Kinda harsh, big guy.

Bruce: So Jon no longer thinks you're cool. Tim had an ongoing twitter thread called "stupid shit Bruce says." Jason and Stephanie have a youtube channel dedicated to making fun of me. There's even quite a few comp videos of me getting injured or being clumsy. You know how many views they have? Its tied with that gangnam style video. Damian, my youngest, tries to sit me down every week and go over a list of things I need to improve on. Like the way I hold a fork for example. This morning at breakfast, he told me I breathe wrong. Dick, you know how he calls me "B?" Yeah I thought it was short for Bruce. When one of my dates asked and I told her, Dick said "Nah..it stands for Bitch." I am listed in his contacts as "Bitchman." Duke calls me cringey at least 3 times a day. And I am too afraid to ask my daughter Cass her thoughts. But yeah, my heart bleeds for the boy scout here.

#batfam

20 notes · View notes

002yb · 9 months

Note

Oh, but everyone in the family feeling absolutely betrayed because Dickjay got married and they all just found out 3 years later

Alfred in particular getting very standoffish and Jason is devastated because he can't fathom what he's done

Desperate enough to reconcile that he goes to Bruce for help

Only Bruce is also standoffish. Downright petulant, even

Jason turning to Dick as a hail mary, only for Dick to admit he's getting similar treatment from everyone (only 10x more aggressive because Jason is baby girl, lbr)

Basically they're both ??? until various colleagues start coming by with all the belated congratulations on the nuptials and what

Because Dick and Jason aren't married?

Only they are

It happened on some space mission. Some cultural misunderstanding led to a DickJay union and they're quiet literally bonded by their souls

Dick: Stunned. Bemused. Flabbergasted. Sputtering.

Jason: Flustered. Can't stop blushing. Passing out because always and forever Jason has a persistent and undying crush on one Dick Grayson - a fact that transcends time and circumstance

The Bat fam recognizes the misunderstanding for what it is and reconciles

Alfred breathing an actual sigh of relief because it broke his heart some to not be invited to the wedding of his boys

Meanwhile Bruce is just adamant on maintaining the virtue of his babygirl; Dick is walking on thin ice - they both should have been better prepared, what if -

Tim cackling because virtue?? Jason????

Jason's a bimbo and a maiden, no apologies will be given

Damian still being grumpy about it all. His jealousy knows no bounds and Dick really stepped in it by marrying Damian's betrothed and whoah whoah whoah Damian is like twelve calm down also it was an accident

Lots of jokes about how everyone should have known there was no intentional marriage. Dick isn't much of a closer on that front.

To which Dick is just mortally wounded but can't say anything because it's true, damn OTL

This feels like it should be a story of DickJay trying to get the equivalent of a divorce, breaking whatever bond was forged without their realizing, only to fall in love along the way and it turning out that biological differences mean their souls weren't bound at all; they would have been fine whether they stayed together or not

I don't care if it's cliche this sort of content is adorable

#dickjay #au

91 notes · View notes

frownyalfred · 4 years

Text

Batfamily dinners have one official rule, and several unofficial ones. The most important is the former; come on time.

which means “come on time” often translates to “come as you are, even if you have to sprint down the hallway with slime in your hair or a mostly-dead zombie clinging to your ankle” because Alfred said “come on time.” (Jason)

or half in and half out of your costume (Tim, once) and trying to artfully turn it into drop crotch harem pants without anyone noticing

or still wearing kohl around your eyes because Alfred doesn’t care if you look like a raccoon, he cares about his soufflé falling (Damian)

or with what looks like a knife still embedded (shallowly) in your upper shoulder (Bruce) even if the bleeding was “slowing down”

or with your hair in several pigtails (Dick) because cass thought it would be cute and whoah, would ya look at the time—

#bruce wayne #batman #batfamily #thoughts lol #jason todd #batdad #dick grayson #tim drake #cassandra cain #damian wayne #dc #batfamily headcanons #alfred pennyworth

2K notes · View notes

redjaybathood · 2 years

Text

(Please consider that I have no idea where it's going to go, before starting reading; also please note that everything up to "Tim.The reason I even became Robin" is taken directly off the pages of War Games)

I can handle this. These guys may all be tough and lethal and everything, but none of them ever survived labor pains, or gave a baby up for adoption. Or tried to be Robin… They don’t know who they are dealing with. Besides, nobody trained by Batman has ever fallen in the line of… Oh, wait, that’s not true. There was that second Robin, the one whose costume is in that memorial case in the Batcave.

Nobody ever really talks about Robin the second, at least not to me… But I’ve always gotten the vibe that something bad happened to him. Something really bad. Anyway, I know for sure he’s completely out of the picture. I know, ‘cause that’s what made room for Tim. The third and last Robin - since I’m sure Batman doesn’t count my fifteen minutes of sidekick fame.

Tim. The reason I even became Robin - or that’s what I was telling myself. Truth was, I wanted to prove myself to Batman. Still am, standing on this roof.

And now, I’m not the only one here.

The second Catwoman shows up, I tense. Will she tell Batman? Maybe not. She sounds like she understands, but doesn’t approve.

“Take it from me, trying to impress Batman is a complete waste of time.” Then she changes the topic. “Whatever’s going on down there, you’ve got a good eye. Know all the players?”

“Um, yeah. That’s Kosov getting out of the car now - he runs the Odesa mob. And I think it’s the NKVDemon with him… Everyone is bringing back up. Except… huh. Check Crown out. He’s the head of Burnley Town Massive, but I swear I never heard of this guy who’s with him.”

It’s at least six feet tall, a massive wall of a man, leather-clad, in a solid red helmet. Strange, that; a meeting so high profile everyone’s bringing their Sunday’s best in terms of hired goons, and he’s bringing an unknown. It would have been more believable if he went alone.

And the new guy… brought a box of - I pick up my night vision binoculars again.

“Is it - cakes? Muffins?”

The guy makes the rounds.

“This is not a PTA committee meeting,” Kwan Lin, the new head of Triad, scoffs.

“You don’t have to eat if you don’t want to,” the guy says. “I mean, it is vegan, sugar-free, totally delicious. From our new coffee shop! Redline, right by subway stop on Dumas Avenue.”

Deadshot just waves the guy away, and the guy shrugs, suit yourself-like. Penguin takes two. Odesa mob, Escabedo, Yakuza, and the others each have one. There are some noises of approval after they taste it.

The guy continues to blab.

“With a location like that, it's not only convenient to wash money, but it is going to make a legitimate profit! We're thinking about making it a franchise. If any of you guys are interested..."

"Crown, where did you find this clown?" Scarface says.

“Not a clown,” the guy taps his helmet.

"No," Penguin says between the bites. "This is actually good! Let him continue, what about the franchise and money laundering?"

"If that's what the meeting is about,” Orpheus says. “Couldn't you just invite us there?"

"I am not looking for cops to wise up who's the real owner, thanks," Crown said wryly.

His hand went inside his jacket and people reacted. Badly.

"Whoah!" The guy with the baking goods steps in front of Crown. "He's a smoker, he's just going for a lighter."

Crown, indeed, takes out, slowly, a cigarette and a lighter.

"I know we're all on edge recently," he says, placating, after lighting it up. "With you know who making a comeback. But let's keep it civil. Besides, I’m not the one who called the meeting.”

“Not you? Then who?”

The guy in the helmet puts the now empty box on the ground. He is still holding his hands up.

“Deadshot, do you see this? Six o’clock, roof.”

Shit. I and Catwoman have to hide, and we stop seeing what’s going on there, though the sound still carries.

“No, don’t pick up the guns. It’s someone of Gotham’s infamous caped community, but honestly, they’re not a threat right now. I bet their plan was to call the cops on us. But what for? For a meeting? There are no outstanding warrants for any of you - well, except you, Scarface. No offense. But if anyone starts shooting, that’s a great reason to round all us to jail right there.”

“So we just what, let them go?” Moxon asks with incredulity.

Almost the same as my feelings exactly, to be honest.

“That’s right. With no probable cause, no evidence, what are they going to do to us?”

Shit. The guy was right - oh, he was also wrong, because my motive wasn’t an arrest, but gathering intel. But he was right that neither I nor Catwoman is in a position to do anything right now.

“If they’re halfway smart, they’re gone already. And if they aren’t, they’re not a threat. You see any movement, Deadshot?”

There’s silence - presumably, Deadshot shakes his head.

“There you are. But despite the reason we all gathered together here not being what any of us expected, doesn’t mean that we have nothing to discuss.”

“And what’s that, Crown?”

“What are we going to do with the comeback kid. Nobody wants him here, am I right?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Continue.”

“Okay, so, just in case we do still have company, I suggest we reconvene at a later date. Here are the phones, as secure as can be, short of anyone hacking into a cell tower. Wait for the message where we’re going to meet the next time. And for the love of god, don’t be so jumpy. If anyone has a leak in their organization, frequent meetings where you take only one bodyguard, but it’s someone like Zeiss… That’s bound to get noticed by all the wrong people.”

This was a complete waste of time. I don’t know how Crown and his guy clocked me when even Deadshot hadn’t before they pointed it out - or maybe he just wasn’t paid to talk, only put bullets into anyone who would do the same to Penguin. But either way…

“This was close,” Catwoman exhales when everyone goes back to their car and leaves. “Was that really you who set up this meeting? Does Batman know about it?”

I put my hands up.

“You got me. Yes, he fired me. Which - duh. I’m not Robin anymore. But it doesn’t mean I’m useless!”

“What did I say about not trying to impress him? And seriously, Spoiler, this could have ended really badly. I thought we’re going to have a bloodbath on our hands.”

Yeah, there was that. Someone really spooked them, and if not the red helmet guy with his freaking cupcakes, the situation might not have been diffused as easily.

“There’s a new player in town,” I say, thinking out loud. “Or, rather, it’s someone’s homecoming. See, this is good. We learned something new.”

Before leaving, Catwoman warns me.

“If you don’t tell Batman, I will.”

Suit yourself, I’m not talking to him anymore.

#stephanie brown #jason todd #war games with red hood au

4 notes · View notes