yooo babe I just saw ur ask abt the batboys and their body types and id like to point out that somewhere in canon jason mentions that tim is actually the heavy hitter of the two while jason is faster (pretty sure I saw that somewhere)




Really???? I’d be curious where you found that given that Jay is so much bigger and Tim is tinier. He doesn’t give the impression that he’d be able to harder than Jay

Thank you everyone who replied! For some reason, tumblr isn’t letting me post replies anymore. But apparently it’s from New 52 Teen Titans #16, around the Death of the Family Tie In. I’m still calling Bullshit because they can write w/e they want but no WAY 6’ Jason who’s built like a tank is gonna hit weaker than 5’3 tiny Tim. Like sorry, Tim got punch but not like Jay do. Thank you to all who replied!!!!

For the sake of having it in one place:


Counterpoint to Titans from Robin #177, although I consider 52 to be a different continuity from Preboot so YMMV:


Although I don’t really like that description much, either,
because excuse the fuck out of you, Jason is smart. I’m 1000% on board with one
of the differences in styles being that Tim fights smarter, paying more attention to where and how he can hit to
maximize impact, vs Jason having a style that relies more on brute strength
because he has it and he didn’t have
to compensate for a small size like Tim did for anywhere near as long, but
ugggggh comics stop trying to convince me that Jason’s dumb. He was trained by Batman.

…anyway. tl;dr earlier canon supports Jason being the
heavy hitter.

Part of me wonders if the “I hit harder, he hits more often,” thing is meant to reflect a mentality/strategy of fighting than actual strength. Like maybe, as you said, Tim does fight “smarter” in that his way of fighting is very trained into him–by martial arts classes then Batman and Shiva–so it’s very much so “save all of my strength for one or two critical hits.” Not that he actually physically hits harder, but that as a ratio of their respective overall power, each of Tim’s punches are maybe a third or half of his energy while Jason’s are more like one twentieth of his.

Not that Jason’s pulling his punches, so much as Tim’s way of fighting is (as in the Preboot example) more about dodging and using the environment to his advantage. A lot of his career as Robin was surrounded by supers who all outclassed him when it came to sheer strength. Tim isn’t going to hit often, but when he does he needs to make each one count. And, also, assassin training so there’s that.

Contrast with Jason who learned fighting on the streets. Yes, he was trained by Batman as well, but that’s more honing the foundation which is a brawler style. In that you hit your opponent whenever you can, as a more in the present kind of fighting than planning out the fight as a whole. 

And also Jason on the streets/as Robin didn’t have the same build and brute strength as he does now. He was the scrappy kid who had to weave around Batman and full grown adult criminals. As Red Hood, no doubt, he’s modified his fighting to accommodate his full grown size and strength, but I wonder how much of that street style “wear them down” mentality is still in effect.

Basically, in video game form, if you could see the floating quantification of energy above either of them, one punch of Tim’s going to wipe out a good chunk of his energy but won’t do much more (possibly, might even be weaker) than one of Jason’s punches which he can do a dozen of no problem.

Shrike Things


So currently future!Tim is going by Stephen, as I don’t know if I want future!Tim or tiny!Tim to go by Timothy and Stephen also means honor without meaning “honoring God”, which I think might appeal to him a bit more. But that means that, to keep things from being confusing for myself or others, I write like most people do when Tim is undercover. Stephen will be his new name, the name I call him by throughout the fic. I’m trying to figure out if I should maintain that or make him Tim and tiny!Tim Stephen (or some other name). Thoughts?

I think it depends on what you plan to do regarding POVs. Will it be entirely future!Tim’s point of view? Or will it jump between different POVs?

I think, if it’s entirely/mostly future!Tim’s POV, that it would be better to have future!Tim refer to himself mentally as Tim with tiny!Tim as Timothy. It’s different enough that readers will be able to distinguish between the two when you write without having to constantly connect Stephen to future!Tim.

I do like Stephen as an alias for him, though, given the “honor” meaning and how there’s that Stephen-Stephanie connection. Considering Shrike is going out on his own as a vigilante for the first time ever, he may very well be reminded of Stephanie during her Spoiler days–alone and without the benefit of an established vigilante infrastructure, but going for it anyway.

So you can still have future!Tim in his “undercover” mode referring to himself as Stephen/thinking as Stephen when others are around, but as soon as he’s alone I do think he’d switch back to “just Tim” mode. And you can also have him refer to himself as Shrike during his patrols and such once he establishes a proper identity/personality for the name.

Word Prompts (S32): Shame

Eyes closed. Try to remember. Fail. Breathe.

Open your eyes, something is wrong. No aches, no pain. Lungs fine. Full range of sight in both eyes.

Your hands aren’t tied, but the room is locked, empty, concrete and metal.

The door has reinforced glass.

There are other rooms like the one you’re in. An entire hallway of them. All empty.

Hallway half lit, light slanting into your cell.

What happened?

You’ve lost a lot. Family, friends, hope.

You had dreams once, opportunities gleaming before you.

Your younger self wouldn’t recognize you. Wouldn’t want to be you.

You honed yourself, changed yourself, sanded down and shaped yourself, whittled down to one thing.

And then that was taken from you.

What happened?

Except for your complete lack of context, you seem to be perfectly fine.

The twinge that used to plague your right pinky is gone. Your hair is shorter. You’re missing some scars.

There’s nothing in this room but you.

You’re clothed, thankfully, but even without the bland shirt and sweatpants you don’t think you’d be cold.

It’s been hours, but you’re not hungry or thirsty or tired.

What happened?

They took your inheritance, took your name, took your life.

You thought you were giving–presents to be appreciated, to be treasured–instead they took and took and took.

You just wanted to help. Maybe that’s the problem. You didn’t ask for more.

You helped them, they helped themselves, your mind and heart and body ravaged and drained.

You were empty before, but you’re broken now.

What happened?

You sleep because there’s nothing else to do.

You tried screaming and breaking out, but eventually you got bored of that.

You sleep and you dream and you remember.

Surrounded, but alone, cloudy night sky and bright red lights zooming toward you. Tinny voices in your ear, last confessions and ignored orders.

You love them so much. You’ve lost so much. You can’t survive this, but you can’t survive losing anyone else either.

Breathe. Fail. Try to remember. Eyes closed.

What happened?


A/N: Mrgh… gonna be honest, I’m having Tim feels as per usual, because I checked out some DCU Rebirth and I’m just like… well. On the one hand, they understand he’s a vital part of the Bat family. On the other hand they literally “took him off the field”


Post Word Count: 337, Running Word Count: 3451

Blood and Water (the Loss and Life Remix), (2016-10-19)

A/N: Based off @bluethursday’s Blood and Water which is a DCUxAvatar the Last Airbender remix… you should probably read that first?


The first time Tim met Ra’s, he thought it was a curious and fascinating happenstance.

He never made that mistake again.

Your mother was water–the ocean and the rain and every drop in between–flowing and swelling and inescapable. Your father was the air–free and flighty, head too much in the clouds to worry about the ground.

Combined they made you.

Yet people still wondered why you had ice in your veins.

Bruce remembers his first impression of Tim: a smart but shy boy, demurely following at Ra’s heels. Only a few years younger than himself, a fellow fire bender wanting to learn from the master.

He was wrong on nearly every count.

Water benders are master healers, air benders the experts in spiritual matters. Or, at least, that’s what nature intended.

But your mother pushed and your father reached, and in the intersection they found a secret.

It was meant to be a gift.

Dick’s first impression was similarly wrong, yet somehow in an entirely different way.

A victim of Ra’s that Bruce had rescued, traumatized and reeling and seeking sanctuary with the Fire Nation King.

After all, Tim was clearly from the destroyed Water Tribes, he might have been a bender if Ra’s hadn’t killed them all.

Dick was very nearly right, if things were altered and rearranged.

You turned seventeen-eighteen-nineteen and realized that you hadn’t changed at all. No new scars, but you never had many in the first place, no wrinkles or additional height.

Perfectly preserved.

An abomination, a monster.

Cass is the one to help Tim leave, sees the fear of staying in one place too long, the fear of a threat already vanquished.

She knows he is hiding something, but he knows she knows, and besides everyone has secrets, so she doesn’t confront him about it.

Cass’ father thought he could make her the Avatar–she understands inheriting sins of the parent.

There is a pool of water that no right minded water bender would touch. Not that any water bender has had the opportunity to do so in centuries, so well-guarded is the Pit.

But your parents didn’t need the original to mimic it’s effects–no, not mimic… master.

Jason never met Tim, not properly, only saw him from a distance.

Jason thought he was the Consort of the Fire Nation King–just a fancy term for whore.

He wasn’t right… not yet.

If things were different, you might have chosen death. If the collective leaders of the remaining bending nations hadn’t banded together to take Ra’s out, you would have died to get rid of him.

Anything to even try to make amends, all those villages obliterated as Ra’s hunted you down, blood on your hands.

But your mother was a scholar, your father a dreamer, and combined they made you.

Maybe one day someone will find you and ask to be taught.

Damian is still a child when he hears the name–more myth than reality. It’s for old tales and nostalgia, nothing relevant, until he needs a water bending teacher.

Dick thinks he is sending Damian to a hermit, one who is aged, if not outrightly old. Jason does little more than smirk, but Cass gives a supportive shoulder pat.

Bruce stays entirely silent on the matter.

You are a monster, but there is place in the world for monsters.

Better you than someone else.

(But don’t all monsters think that?)

Thoughts of You, (2016-09-20)

In a sea of monochrome, all it takes is a single splash of color to draw his eye.

It’s been a few months since Damian has taken over for his father completely. By day and by night.

It should be everything he’s ever wanted. The whole purpose of his birth finally fulfilled, if coopted for himself instead of his grandfather and mother. He has wealth, he has power; he has family, he has friends.

He is not lacking in any way.

So why does he feel like he is?

Somewhere, flitting in the corner of Damian’s eye, is the only flash of color at this gala. He doesn’t even know what this gala is for, anymore, they all blur together.

The men around him in their nearly uniform tuxedos, the women who have turned to silver as this season’s color or who think black is slimming, elegant, classic (boring).

Even Damian’s kandura–chosen defiantly but altered slightly toward Western fashion sense–is all in white and pale gray.

But there is color here and now; small and fleeting but present. And he doesn’t care if it’s rude to abruptly leave the current conversation happening around him, it doesn’t matter.

Damian sees a spot of color–the first in what feels like ages–and all he can think is that he wants.

Time moves in circles; hands around the clock face–cycles and rhythms and patterns.

The prince becomes king, the young bat learns how to fly. Creatures of the night appear to make him fall.

Or watch him rise.

The color is a dress shirt–an almost familiar blue-green that Damian can’t quite place–worn underneath a black waistcoat and tie. No jacket, though. If this weren’t the kind of even that would regulate that–no matter how rich or influential the guests–Damian would almost think it were on purpose.

He’s already being impulsive, heedless, untethered, and Damian just wants. Reaches out to curl a hand around the man’s wrist, feels soft fabric beneath his palm, and the smooth surface of his chrysoberyl cabochon cufflinks.

The man turns around to face Damian, surprise but no fear or anger on his face. His lips curve into a demure smirk, if a smirk could even be such, a small sideways smile that says I know a secret.

He glances down, pointedly, at their joined arms, Damian’s hand still wrapped around a pulse he can barely feel beneath the cuff but which still hammers away despite the man’s apparent calm. Belatedly, he lets go, scowls at his own lack of decorum.

“Is there something you needed, Mr. Wayne?” The man asks, even as Damian reels internally, burning with same question.

“Please,” he says, which is a more common occurrence than it used to be but still fairly rare, “Call me Damian.” Because everyone, even strangers, call him Damian–one of the many downfalls of being the youngest of such a public family, never mind that he is no longer a child.

The man nods in acknowledgement, “Damian, then,” he says, and that’s it. No additional chatter, no leading statements, no desperate attempts at flirting. In fact, it looks as if he’s about to turn back around and leave.

“And you?” Damian asks, can’t stop the way the words escape him to fill the silence, “You know my name. You have me at a disadvantage.”

The man blinks, smiles wider, “You can call me Quinton.”

They don’t have much more time than that, the sycophants ever clamoring for the Wayne coattails interrupting the moment.

Damian cannot disregard propriety a second time, can only watch as the man–Quinton–is pushed away behind the crowd of débutantes, eager to make their own impression on Gotham’s most eligible bachelor.

By the time Damian comes up for air, Quinton is nowhere in sight, the world gone back to monochrome.

At least he knows the man’s name.

Damian begins to suspect something is wrong when, upon seeking the event planner for the guest list, finds the woman in a frenzy hissing orders to her army of underlings.

“And make sure none of this gets out to the guests,” she punctuates fiercely, only to squeak in horror at spotting Damian. “Sir!”

“What is going on?” he asks, more demand than question, more Bat than Wayne.

The hotel hosting the gala was also home to a vault whose contents the head of security will not disclose, not even to Damian Wayne.

It doesn’t take much sleuthing to figure out what happened.

It also doesn’t take very long to create a suspect list–though as far as Damian knows, the only person who can pull this off single-handedly is halfway across the globe with his father on an international crime spree to reclaim stolen relics for their nation of origin.

Just in case, Damian calls him.

“Father,” he greets, just barely, before a rushed, “You and Kyle are far from Gotham, yes?”

Father pauses, processing, but when he speaks it is warm and amused, “Damian,” he returns, “Yes, Selina and I are not in Gotham. Is something the matter?”

“There’s been an incident at the gala,” Damian admits grudgingly, “Or rather, using the gala as a distraction. Burglary, though I don’t know yet what’s been taken. I’m still Damian Wayne right now.”

“Oh?” A voice asks, too feminine to be his father.

“Am I on speaker?” Damian asks, irritated.

“Yes,” Father says, redundant, as Kyle continues with, “A burglary and your first though was little old me? I’m retired, darling,” she lies, blatantly. Her crimes now are more noble, but certainly no less illegal.

Her travel companion hardly minds, though: vigilantism is also technically illegal.

“Do you know if anything has been left behind?” Kyle asks, and Damian bids a swift goodbye as he follows up on that train of thought.

As Damian Wayne, he is politely but firmly told that the hotel cannot violate their guests’ privacy and to stay out of the matter.

As Batman he finds out what, exactly, was taken from the vault, what was left in the vault, and the likely suspect now that Kyle is out of the running:

In the empty case which once contained an external hard drive, is a fake flower with silk petals of a familiar blue-green color. According to the gala guest list, there is only one Quinton, last name Harlowe, who no one else can remember.

After a night of fruitless searching and more successful crime fighting, Damian returns to the Cave and flips the cowl off. It seems more suffocating tonight, his head overheating with thoughts of frustration and baseless betrayal.

In the Cave’s bathroom, he splashes cool water to his face, and looks at his own reflection. His eyes, even bloodshot and shadowed, are a familiar blue-green color

(Tim is born to a Fury, cold and full of wrath.

He’s raised to be a Siren, singing of a different kind of danger.)


A/N: Been reading DCU fic, in particular @justwritinsThink Of Me (hence the shoutout title even this ficlet has nothing in common with their fantastic fic except for the pairing) and woke up with the most wonderful DamiTim idea which took way too long to actually transcribe and faded as the day passed :/

So this is what I was able to salvage before it disappeared completely. ~Enjoy~

The Ghost of Wayne Manor, (2016-06-15)

Surprise, it’s Tim.

Only children can sense him fully (though sometimes Alfred thinks he can hear him, can see the gentle nudges of things moved slightly out of place; sometimes they play chess) but once they’ve become “adults” that’s it. No more.

Tim remembers when Bruce was young, how they would play together. Remembers how his parents had indulged his “imagination” (though Thomas finds it quite the coincidence that his son’s ‘imaginary friend’ is also named Tim). And then, after the incident, how Bruce was so sad and brooding. In mourning. Something Tim knew about but never really understood until Bruce explained it to him.

But grief ages a person, and not long after, Bruce stops being able to see him anymore. Tim is alone, again.

Until Dick. And, see, even though Dick’s parents died before he came to the Manor, he wasn’t as rapidly changed as Bruce was. And Tim loved him for it, this new friend who could see him and play with him–even through his teenaged years.

Except, lately, Dick and Bruce have been fighting a lot. And Dick spends more and more time away, and suddenly their last fleeting goodbye becomes their final goodbye. Dick doesn’t come back until he’s Nightwing and can no longer see him.

It’s a while before anyone can sense him as completely as Dick did. Barbara, as Batgirl, on the rare occasions she came to the Manor (and not the Cave) had never been able to perceive him fully. Had perhaps seen glimpses of him from the corner of her eye, or heard a question in an unfamiliar voice, but they had never really met.

Jason, Tim thinks, came to the Manor old and learned to be young. Had been able to sense Tim better as time passed, an unusual direction, but one that Tim had been grateful for. Because Jason was interesting and fun and so full of life that Tim forgot, sometimes, whenever they were together, that he was a ghost.

Except that was cut short (and Tim wonders, sometimes, if it was his fault. If he might have wished that Jason could join him forever. If somewhere, in a land far away, Jason’s ghost is scared and alone and cursing his name).

The years that follow are long and cold and difficult. Worse, even, than when Bruce stopped seeing him and went away, coming back a stranger with a familiar face and always going to the Cave.

(Tim remembers, when Bruce was younger, the way they’d play at being brave but never daring the Cave. It was deep and dark and what if something were to happen to Bruce? Tim couldn’t get help. And so they avoided it, were awed by it. It was the bottom of the ocean and far flung space, a frontier that maybe they would explore when Bruce was older. But now look at it: Bruce has conquered it, made it into a home of sorts, a base from which his new legacy spreads. And still Tim cannot go in)

But things get better. A new Batgirl, one that can sometimes see him but not hear him–which is just as well, since she does not need words to understand him–and then another, one who can occasionally hear or see him, but not touch him (which he is grateful for, that first meeting, when her instinct is to punch a strange boy suddenly manifesting in front of her).

It is better, yes, but not the same as having a Robin or a Wayne child in the house.

Until, suddenly, there is.

Both even, though this one is far more interested in training in the Cave than indulging a ghost. But things start to come together somehow anyway, Dick and even Jason (somehow alive, not Tim’s fault, didn’t curse him to the same horrible fate) return to the Manor. And while Dick still can’t sense him, he remembers Tim, talks to him and pesters Damian into relaying responses. And Jason–touched by death, yet alive again–can still pinpoint Tim’s location, even without sight, and wrestle him into a playful headlock.

Stephanie and Cassandra and Barbara, who can see or hear him in bits and pieces, belief and perception bolstered by Damian’s honest, if reluctant, words. Alfred, of course, continues to do his best, their chess matches somehow cheerier.

Once, Bruce writes a note and leaves it on the desk in the study, before going behind the grandfather clock. Tim reads it and cries–or the ghostly equivalent of it, having no body or tears–but it is a thing more sweet than bitter, apologies, yes, but gratitude and nostalgia as well. Joy and affection.

Bruce has built a family around him, has filled the Manor with people who know Tim, and while it’s not the same as having his best friend back he thinks that this can be an acceptable replacement.

Except for Damian. It’s not as if Tim is jealous, he is dead and well aware of his role in the Manor–there is no competition, for how could a ghost ever compete with the living? But for some reason, Damian sees just the opposite.

Oh, he will repeat Tim’s words to the others when asked–grudgingly of course–but he will otherwise not acknowledge Tim’s presence. He doesn’t speak to Tim as himself, doesn’t interact with him, doesn’t engage. It’s as if he takes pleasure in making Tim feel as nonexistent as possible.

At one point, it seemed like he might even be trying to exorcise him (thankfully, Alfred put a stop to all that nonsense) though he might very well have continued if it weren’t for Bruce’s death.


It’s stupid and selfish and so untrue, but Tim thinks it hurts him most of all.

He knew Bruce the longest, knew him when he was first brought home to the Manor as a baby. Bruce was his long before he was anyone else’s–before Alfred even–and it seems like his mourning, no longer an unfamiliar creature (and, oh, how silly and foolish he had been, how cruel he must have seemed to a young Bruce newly orphaned so long ago), should be far more than everyone else’s.

But that is not how grief works. Because that is not how family or love work, either, and during this time it cannot be said that isn’t what they are.

Grief works in mysterious ways, though, and while Dick and Jason and Cassandra and Stephanie all spend more and more time down in the Cave (all the better to honor Bruce, Tim knows, the legacy he left them with) Damian spends more time in the Manor. With Tim.

It’s not too little, too late–though he wishes Bruce would have been able to see them get along–but it is, at first, something strange and strained.

He and Damian are not friends yet, but they can learn to be; both of them a different but complementary parts of the Wayne family. Damian tells Tim about the Mission, about Bats and Birds and all the things in the Cave that Tim can never go to. He tells him about his mother, of his grandfather, of a childhood of being trained for two different roles; of swords and death and demons.

Tim teaches Damian his other branch of family history, two boys going down the long row of portraits, going further along each day.

Tim has been part of the Wayne Manor for so long, has watched generations of Wayne children grow up, and while he can remember each of them individually it’s true that sometimes the memories blur. He’s uncertain if it was Thomas or Bruce who broke a window and blamed it on Tim, or if it was Kenneth that unleashed frogs in the kitchen instead of Patrick.

Oh, he knows what they did as adults–even if they stopped seeing Tim by then–but he thinks Damian appreciates the more silly stories from their childhoods. It humanizes them, makes them family and not just genealogy.

Except. They reach the painting for Mordecai Wayne.

And Tim knows: he knows with such a strength (not the guilt ridden thoughts of Jason trapped in a foreign land, away from the Manor, away from Tim) that Bruce is alive.

The others don’t believe him (the others can barely see him–an imaginary friend they’ve outgrown, a child ghost unaware of the world) but Damian does.

It doesn’t matter that they are just children–one of them is a centuries old ghost and the other is Robin–they can do this. They can find Bruce and bring him home.

And Tim and Damian are no longer strangers stuck in the same house, they are friends. They are partners.

When Bruce comes back, he comes back to see his youngest son getting along with his oldest friend, and all is well in the Manor.

… for now…

Because maybe at one point in the future, Damian wants to figure out who exactly Tim is. No longer trying to exorcise him, but to give him a past–a name, a history–that isn’t just the ghost haunting Wayne Manor. How long has he been the Wayne family’s ghost; befriending Wayne children, watching over their home? Who was Tim before that?

And probably–even though Damian doesn’t intend for it to happen–unearthing the truth leads to Tim moving on. No more guardian ghost for the children of Wayne Manor. No more Tim.

But maybe there’s hope. Maybe, ten years after that–when Damian has finally taken up the mantle from his father–a little boy comes to the Manor. One that everyone can see and hear. A little boy named Tim.

Batman needs a Robin, and the Wayne family needs Tim.


A/N: a weird brainstorm/fic combination, highly influenced+inspired by @heartslogos’ DCU fic.

Also, written on my phone while I was on a seven hour bus ride so… take that as you will.

BASICALLY, I am always having Tim feels. Always.

Richie Todd Wayne Goes To Paris 2/? (2015-12-21)

A/N1: Continuation of this (hence the numbering). Based of @mgnemesi’s baby fic ‘verse.


First thing in the morning, over a breakfast nowhere near as good as Alfred’s but far superior to Uncle Dick’s, Mr. Drake asks him, “How’s your French?”

Richie, bleary-eyed but still determined to make a good impression, blinks and dutifully says, “Entre horrible et médiocre.”*

Mr. Drake hums in response and says nothing for the rest of the meal.

Half an hour later, as they are leaving the flat to go to the team’s headquarters, Mr. Drake finally responds, “From now on, you can only speak in French.”

An immediate protest tries to claw its way out of Richie’s mouth, but he bites it back. Still, something must show on his face, because one of Mr. Drake’s eyebrows raise.

“You came to France to learn, so you will learn in French. If you wanted to learn in English, you should have ambushed me in the London HQ. Or,” he says, a smirk slowly spilling across his face, “You could go back to Gotham, everyone speaks English there.”

Rather than discouraging Richie, it fires him up. The challenge is similar enough to his dad and aunts and uncles’ training that it feels familiar, “Je serai Robin!”**

The smirk flickers into a pleased smile, before fading away, back to Mr. Drake’s blank expression.

The trip is made in silence, an unusual state of being for Richie; he plans to brush up on his French so it won’t happen again tomorrow.

Richie didn’t notice it yesterday–what with the late hour and being detained by the team as an intruder–but the Batman Inc headquarters in Paris is rather pretty. Especially in comparison to the Cave which, while kitted out to the extreme and very impressive, is still a literal cave.

In contrast, the Paris HQ is bright and airy, mostly windows to let in natural light and the walls either painted to enhance that or glass. It looks more like an art gallery or the offices of a popular fashion magazine, all the better to blend in with it’s surroundings. The physical transparency of the building somehow hiding it’s secret vigilante operations.

Well, that is ostensibly what he came here to learn.

In the light of day, and without the suspicion of being a villain of some sort, the Paris operatives are far happier to see him than they were yesterday. At the very least, they aren’t tying him up and glaring at him, which is a notably big improvement from last night.

But they watch him with wary eyes, only stepping forward and speaking when Mr. Drake rests a hand on his shoulder and says, “Team, this is Richard Todd Wayne from Gotham. He’s here for some undercover training,” in French, of course.

Maybe Richie’s not translating it correctly, or maybe there’s something he’s missing, because the suspicious cast on the team’s faces turns gleeful. Sadistically so.

“Men’s Fashion Week is coming up…” one of them says, a black-haired woman in pink polka dots.

“We do have a concert coming up, as well,” the blonde woman adds.

And suddenly there is a flurry of conversation too fast-paced for Richie to follow, different members chiming in at random times. It kind of reminds him of dinner at the Manor. Except with less threat of being stabbed with a fork… probably.

“I’m sure Richie will appreciate the many learning opportunities,” Mr. Drake says firmly, bringing the discussion to a close, before dropping the hand off Richie’s shoulder, “Before that… Who wants to give him the tour?”


A/N2: Given that I don’t actually know where I want to go with this fic, it would not leave me alone while I was at work. So… here? Progress, at least.

Also, the French: *(Between terrible and mediocre) and **(I will be Robin!) I got from google translate. I do not speak French AT ALL. Which is why I didn’t want to continue butchering the language in the second section…

Also, also, thanks mgnemesi for letting me play in the sandbox 🙂

Honor and Cherish (‘Til Death) (2015-12-20)

Usually when Jason hops through dimensions, he lands right in the middle of things. More often than not in front of his alternate selves or, more and more frequently, one of Tim’s.

But this time around there are no thugs to beat up, no bomb in the process of it’s countdown, no villain of the week holding a gun to someone’s head. There’s not even a caped crusader or a boy or girl wonder in bright traffic light colors.

Instead, he lands in a decrepit library, where he finds a computer set-up Oracle would approve of, a dog that only speaks Dutch, and two men very unamused by his sudden appearance.

So Jason talks fast–it’s one of the few skills he had before Robin training–and, thankfully, does not end up with a hole in his kneecap.

“The Drakes, huh?” Jason asks, staring at the taped up photos of the married couple. Once “Finch” and “Mr. Reese” (aliases that would almost make him homesick if he weren’t already) agreed on his tentative ally status, Jason decided to help out. He appeared in this specific place at this specific time for a reason, and this is the obvious reason.

“You know of them, Mr. Todd?” Finch asks, taking stilted, shuffling, painful-looking steps to stand beside him. More papers are taped up onto the board, their shared company and its financial records.

“Kind of. Not these ones, obviously, but different versions of them,” which is true enough. He’s never actually met any of the Drakes except for Tim. Usually they’re already dead by the time Jason appears in the dimension.

Mr. Reese scoffs, a low soft noise, barely an exhalation of breath. He doesn’t really believe Jason’s story of alternate dimensions but he doesn’t have any proof against it either. And in a world like this one–no aliens, no magic, none of the frankly bizarre shit that happens in Jason’s original universe–well. It makes sense.

Luckily, Finch is at least willing enough to entertain the idea. And that’s good enough for Reese.

“Well, these Drakes are persons of interest. They’ll either be the victims or perpetrators of planned violent crime and it’s our job to stop it,” Finch says, taping yet another picture–this time of a man, pug-faced and unhappy, “Given their most recent publication, an indictment against one Wade Huggins, leader of something called the Maryland Militia, it’s more likely the two of them are at risk of becoming the former. Now I’ve–”

“Three,” Jason interrupts, before Finch can continue his monologue.

“What is that, Mr. Todd?” Finch says, irritation blended with curiosity. Both Reese and the dog stare at Jason with thinly veiled hostility.

“Three of them. The Drakes and their son,” Jason clarifies. Because surely, if someone were mad at the Drake parents–enough to kill–they’d make some sort of attempt at Tim, too. “Is there no picture for him? I guess it depends how old he is, Tim never really liked getting photographed.”

Finch blinks, processing, while Reese raises a brow in confusion.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” Finch says, brow furrowed, “The Drakes don’t have a son.”


A/N: For some reason, I was rewatching Person of Interest and in season 2 episode 8 there is a case in which a couple named Drake hire hitmen to try to kill each other and while their first names don’t match, I got some serious Jack and Janet vibes. And then it turns out they tried to have a baby and miscarried… and I wondered oh. What if that was this universe’s Tim?

Because, on a far lighter note, I remember there was a fairly accurate and hilarious description of Person of Interest: “It’s as if Batman and Bruce Wayne were two separate people.” With the former being in love with the latter.

So my brain was like… well… gotta do some kind of DCUxPoI crossover thing.

Also highly influenced by @me-ya-ri’s Left Behind But Not For Long, in that, this is a Jason Todd jumping around different dimensions and trying to find his way home.

Um… not sure if I’ll come back to this, but I had some feels so…

Cross-Post: Richie Todd Wayne Goes To Paris, Brainstorm (2015-10-06)


A/N1: I guess I bit off more than I could chew for this story, it’s collapsed under it’s own weight. Rather, there’s too much set up for not enough plot in return. So below is the brainstorming/outlining/ranting of my thoughts regarding this fic. I dunno. Maybe I’ll come back to it, but probably not? I was a little overeager yesterday.

Again, Richie Todd Wayne is from @mgnemesi‘s babyfic verse.

Technically, this is a cross-post, only because when I thought I was going to write it I transcribed all of my thoughts onto an lj post for safekeeping.

So, original here. Dated 2015-10-06.

Because babyfic verse didn’t explicitly go the route of JayTim (though mgnemesi wanted to) and there was some consideration for JayKon, at least temporarily, my brain extrapolated and went–what if that’s because Tim leaves?

So it starts with the dysfunctional first impressions take two with baby– the fact that Jason trusts the baby with Damian of all people. And sure it’s actually because Jason and Damian have history, but to Tim it seems like “I would rather hand this baby over to a literal assassin than trust him with you.” And maybe Tim takes it as a remark on himself–I wasn’t really going to nerve strike him, but am I so suspicious/untrustworthy that you think I would do that to a baby?

And of course Alfred wants Richie to be raised in Wayne Manor, but Jason obviously has issues with the family. But this is even before Bruce has been brought back, so it’s only Dick and Damian in the Manor (because Tim has moved out–he’s not going to live with Damian)… so maybe it’s like. Jason is more comfortable in the Manor when Tim isn’t there–so Tim interprets it in a way that says, he is not trusted with the baby.

Since it is during the Red Robin arc, Tim is out of Gotham for the most part, anyway so it’s not a deliberate avoidance. During which, Jason and Richie are already pretty settled in the manor. Until he brings back Bruce.

Obviously it’s tense at first, but then it becomes clear that Jason’s not killing people because he’s got a baby! And, really, that’s all that Bruce wanted so it’s fine. So Bruce welcomes him back (never mind that it’s Bruce returning). Jason is also tense, but being a father has given him perspective–he’s not so angry or out of control–so they reconcile.

Meanwhile, Tim is like… they’re a happy family now. Without me. So he just jets. Since Bruce is back he doesn’t need to be Wayne Enterprise’s CEO/poster-boy. But he thrives when he’s necessary, so he tries to come up with more jobs he can fulfill.

So he starts with expansion of WE and Batman Inc into Canada, sees how everyone gets along without him. How quickly they are to take over/distribute his territory/patrols. How utterly unnecessary he is in Gotham.

Likewise he’s not needed with the Titans because they’re a Robin thing and he’s not Robin anymore. Sure they didn’t like him at first, but everyone collectively mellows out and begin to get along. Especially since they are JLA light. And while Tim never wants to be Batman, the others are still in line of succession and it just makes sense for Batman in training to be on a team with the other JLA in training.

So there’s really no need for him to go back (which he interprets as, he can’t go back).

While Tim interprets the family as not needing him, so he does other things elsewhere, the family interprets his actions as him being so swamped/busy. So they try to lessen his load. Like, Bruce took back the CEO position for WE because he thought Tim was being overworked–instead Tim saw it as, of course, I’m just a placeholder. Now I don’t have WE or Robin, I have to make a place for me. It’s a spiral. Everyone thinks he’s moved on from them, when in fact it’s Tim thinking I should leave before you kick me out.

And a lot of that mentality spills over. Once he establishes a team in Canada (as both Batman Inc. and JLA International, because he knows there are some metahumans and he does not discriminate, also, double the financing), he sees that they’re functioning well, that they can run without him. He’s unnecessary again [there’s definitely some influence from saccarines’ fic Correspondence].

He goes back to Gotham after establishing the Canadian team, sees how well they function without him, decides to go where he’s needed–i.e. establishing teams in Europe.

Europe does weird things to Tim–he broke a lot of laws there, it’s an older place, and the ways of world are different. Magic, not metahumans [Ladybug and Chat Noir?!]. The teams he assemble aren’t as wide-eyed innocent and stalwart as the North American teams. They’re darker, somehow–not that Gotham, world capital of the criminally insane isn’t dark as well, but the vigilante culture is so controlled by Bruce’s lofty standards that, in comparison, Tim’s European Batman Inc teams are more shades of gray and subtlety.

He’s pretty established as the voice/face of Batman Inc in Europe. London, Paris, Berlin, Athens (WE stimulates economy, Batman Inc protects the people). He’s not really the boss, but he has the most experience and he is the one who established them. He made them to function independently of him… mostly he floats between them, acting as an intermediary between HQs or them and mafia. He can’t get a foothold in Italy because the mafia are so established, but maybe he makes deals with them occasionally (more of that sketchy gray area). He probably does have some dealings with Ra’s al Ghul, but that’s really minimal to the story.

He very rarely goes back to Gotham–less and less frequently as time goes by–and definitely never the Manor when Jason and Richie are there. Because he doesn’t want Jason to feel like his home is unsafe, not realizing that the Manor should also be Tim’s home. He makes himself busy, makes himself necessary elsewhere. Avoids the entire family.


Richie goes to Paris when he’s thirteen because he’s frustrated. When is he going to be Robin? Damian has officially become Batman and Richie was always going to be his Robin. He’s already had a lot of training because he literally was raised by all of the Batmen, Robins, Batgirls (Aunt Cass visits AT LEAST once a year, which is more than Tim does, because she’s not a neurotic mess of self esteem issues).

It’s been over a decade since Tim has come home/interacted with the family not in a professional capacity–either WE or BI [although, he did have Cass come over and help train his Europe teams].

Richie’s a little nervous around Tim because, with everyone else, his other “teachers” are just his family. He’s grown up with them–Aunt Stephanie was the one to buy him waffles before teaching him how to stitch a wound closed. His Dad taught him how to wire a bomb but still makes sure he doesn’t watch R-rated movies. But with Tim, it’s this stranger. And the thing is, they don’t really talk about him in the Manor. You don’t really talk about people unless they’re present in some way… maybe Richie grew up on stories of Red Robin/the third Robin (what, with Jay and Kon having had a thing a few years ago) but it’s not prevalent in his life. He’s a lingering ghost in the Manor, and even in the Titans Tower.

So Richie’s nervous, but Tim of course interprets that as “Oh, he hates me.” Because why wouldn’t he? As far as Tim knows, this is Richie, the son of Jason who hates his Replacement. The boy who’s in love with/going to be Robin of Damian, who hates his predecessor and literally tried to kill him.
But of course Jason doesn’t hate Tim, he’s just really fucking awkward around him. And… well, I don’t necessarily want it to also be DamiTim, but that is a possibility (and I’m always a sucker for DamiTim, or at least theoretically DamiTim–Tim is building Batman Inc, and Batman is now Damian. He’s building Damian’s empire).

But Richie has a crush on Damian… I want Richie to have a happy ending, but having your first love requited, especially when it’s for a man who will be your mentor/vigilante partner isn’t exactly going to lead to a happy ending for Richie… definitely one-sided Richie x Damian.

Richie is a good boy. He’s all of the hope of Robin within him. He is loved by his family and is all of their good traits. So when Tim is feeling low, saying that he can learn better from someone else, Richie replies with “They’re not you.”
Tim doesn’t think he’s part of the family, while Richie is the baby of the family. So there’s this gulf between them–the one who (thinks he) is unloved and the child who is most loved.

Richie is a lovable boy–and Tim doesn’t have any problem with training this boy. He’s going to be a Robin that Damian Wayne needs. That Damian Wayne wants. And Tim will do anything in his power to help make someone needed/wanted. Dick was also very lovable–loving and being loved, as was Jason whose love burned and was passionate and invited reciprocation, Stephanie loved easily, strongly, and it was easy to love her in turn, Damian of course would be loved. Tim thinks he wasn’t loveable–he loved but wasn’t loved in turn.

Training starts with undercover stuff, because it is the one thing that Tim is the best at amongst the family. It’s something that the European branches take pride in because they are more subtle, and it gives them a way to seem more than they are (each team is really three or four people, but each person has multiple identities so they seem larger), it’s their specialty. So at first Tim teaches Richie that, because he doesn’t know what else to do.
And after a week, Tim expects Richie to be bored and want to go home. Except, no Richie wants to stay, “I still have so much to learn from you.” And Tim’s just like… “Really? Like what? But… okay?” And he’s scrambling around trying to find what else to teach Richie–he doesn’t want to teach him the wrong thing, doesn’t want to ruin this Robin to be.

But he’s good at this. He basically raised Kon and Bart, he’s been training teams since he was a teenager himself, his self made job is to create and train teams to independence. He’s good at it. So long as Tim doesn’t get distracted by holding himself up to the ideal of Robin, he’s a really good teacher. He get’s more comfortable with Richie and vice versa, and then a month passes.

And Tim really doesn’t have anything else to teach him. But then they stumble upon this conflict. Because Tim thought he’d be gone after a week, and the family thought maybe a month but definitely after he’s done with training. Whereas Richie is like–I’m going to stay here forever, or at least until they let me be Robin.

At which point Tim is like… are you holding yourself hostage? And they discuss the philosophies of Robin. It’s something that Tim has been different about in regards to the role. With Dick it was “I want to help fight crime.” With Jason it was “I now have the power to do good.” With Stephanie, she was going to fight crime regardless, as Spoiler, but as Robin she’s Bat-sanctioned, Bat-trained, “I am getting the authority.” With Damian, Robin was a step to Batman–a Batman in training role.

But with Tim, he stepped up to be Robin because someone needed to step up to be Robin. Robin needs to exist as a complementary role to Batman–regardless of who fills the suit or what comes after.

It helps Richie understand Tim. Because it’s about being whatever Batman needs. And that’s why Tim is so messed up, because when he had Robin taken away from him he took that as a sign that he was not needed. Whereas Richie is raised with all these people, constantly reassuring him that he’s loved and that he doesn’t have to join the family business. And if he doesn’t he knows he will still be loved. His place is solid in the family, and that’s something that Tim doesn’t realize about family.

Tim tells him to go home. Don’t be so eager to be Robin right now. Or rather, be the Robin that they need. Right now Damian doesn’t need someone to fight beside him. He doesn’t need a Robin on the streets, he needs someone who will be there for him. It’s his first year as Batman and he needs to establish himself as a hero in his own right before he becomes a mentor, he needs time. So maybe what he needs from Richie is to give him that time… and Richie accepts that. He’s not as desperate to be Robin, he’s patient.

But Richie personally still needs to learn. Which Tim acknowledges as true. After all, Tim did a training trip with Shiva and so maybe Richie needs something similar. So Time is like… how much time do you have until school? Another month? Well for this month, you’ll be operating in Europe. It’ll be a taste of what it’s like to be an operative. Then the adventures of Richie Todd Wayne as Egg. And afterwards, Richie goes home, settled and stronger. Ready for Robin, but willing to wait.

… Except he bonded with Tim, and he knows how lonely Tim is, how unsure of his place in the family is. So he wants to bring him home (which is, basically what Alfred was trying to do from the start by sending Richie to Tim)… so Richie pulls a Parent Trap for Jason and Tim… or something like that.

A/N2: Uh… so yeah. I actually did all of brainstorming verbally in an hour long voice recording while I was stuck in traffic. There was a lot of cussing… and me yelling out OBLIGATORY TIM FEELS like… six times. Basically… I had a lot of feelings yesterday.

OH NO! So I was delving into the Miraculous Ladybug wiki (as I am wont to do when getting sucked into new fandoms) and I stumbled upon the Quantic Kids aka the original superhero team concept before the creators settled on the idea of the kwami and having only a Ladybug and Chat Noir duo.

Mostly, I saw the three/four “abandoned” characters and mourned because they had pretty cool character designs. In particular, I really liked Sparrow and how “normal human trying to fight crime without magic/superpowers” he looked. As in, a perfect candidate for Batman Inc–even his superhero name is thematic.

Basically, given that Mercury is a speedster, there is a Kid Mime with (most likely) telepathy power, and Melodie whose outfit and weapon frankly look super badass, I figure the “abandoned” Quantic Kids members would be almost a blast from the past for Tim; a lot of Young Justice vibes. It probably explains why he’s more fond of the team and prefers his Paris apartment even though–numbering at six with Chat Noir and Ladybug included–their team would be the largest and wouldn’t need Tim as an auxiliary, part-time member.

I mean, I guess what I’m trying to say is that if I were to revisit Richie Todd Wayne Goes To Paris it would definitely be a DCU x Quantic Kids crossover sort of thing more than it’s original DCU with some Miraculous Ladybug cameos. Like, Richie would be an outsider POV for the team, and they would be an outsider POV for the whole Wayne family drama thing.

Untitled DCU fic remix drabble (2015-11-12)

A girl named Janet can inspire an army, enchant a king, start a war.

The woman named Janet will build an empire, destroy her enemies, and end the war.

Theirs is an arrested dance, a stalemated game, pushes and no pulls, takes and no gives.

Offers are not made out of generosity, but thinly veiled traps; aid is provided only for future leverage.

They know better than to trust. Theirs is a relationship of fascination and competition, there is no room for love.

But this time, when one requests, the other does not reject immediately.

Madness is in his blood, something he inherited from his mother, which she inherited from her father, and so on and so forth. But obsession? That, he learned–the only lesson from his father.

Madness and obsession, the building blocks to success. Or, at least, the foundation of his success.

The foundation he will pass on to his child.

“You will see, beloved, our legacies deserve an heir who will bring greatness to both. Our heir will be–”

“A daughter. A daughter named Janet.”


A/N: A super tiny drabble inspired by @bluethursday’s ficlet “Grandfather Must Die” in which Ra’s propositions Tim (again) for a child and Tim refuses (again). But I wondered… what if this time he said yes.

I just really enjoyed the imagery bluethursday invoked when describing the nonexistent daughter. And given my Janet Drake feels I’m just like… hells yeah Tim would name his daughter Janet.