Tag: tim drake

timdrakequotes:

Ra’s: Our
past history aside, I am not your enemy, Tim.

Robin: Hard
to believe after you had a horde of ninjas drag me here. And the whole zombie
look doesn’t exactly scream “good guy.”

Ra’s: Give
me time. I will change your mind. Local delicacies, sikami and khir.
I think you’ll find their sweetness refreshing.

Robin: If I
didn’t know that meant dessert, I’d think you were being lewd, Ra’s.

Ra’s: You’ll
find no moral judgment here, Tim.

Robin: Yeah,
and that’s the difference, isn’t it? I may be young, but I can’t be bought
with sugar–of
one kind or another. You’re trying too hard, Ra’s.

Ra’s: Oh,
that was just hospitality. You’ll know when I’m trying. I stand before
you as a man who has conquered death. If I can return in
body and soul…so can others. I can reunite you with your parents,
Timothy. You’re clearly in need of a strong mentor. Someone who can be a
benefactor and powerful friend to you. Luckily you don’t have to look any
further for one.

Robin:
You’re right. Because I already have all that with Batman.

Ra’s: He
already thinks more of Damian than he does you. It won’t be
long before Damian surpasses you both in skill and the Detective’s
affections. History has shown that he will leave you in the cold.
I’m sure you’ve heard as much from Jason Todd. There, Robin. I was
trying right there.

–Tim Drake
with Ra’s al Ghul (Detective Comics #838 – The Resurrection of Ra’s al Ghul:
Part Three – Sins of the Fathers)

Love all of your writings! For your fic requests What about JayTim “things you said while I was crying” or “things you said on the phone at 4 am” ??

glaciya:

Even though there’s been no answer the last six times Tim has called Dick’s number, Tim can’t help trying again. He sniffs, rubbing a hand across his eyes as it starts to ring. By the third ring, he’s curled up on his couch in a sitting fetal position, left arm around his legs, forehead resting on his knees, and right hand pressing the phone hard against his ear.

He never bothered turning on the lights when he first came home, knowing the brightness would be harsh on his already overwhelmed senses, so darkness surrounds him. He’s wearing Kon’s shirt and the softest sweatpants his owns, meaning that all he can smell now is the fabric softener Alfred uses when he washes clothes. He thinks now, if he can just hear Dick’s voice, things might be okay.

The phone stops ringing.

“‘Lo this is Dick speaking,” says a voice that is definitely not Dick.

Tim holds the phone away from his head, squinting at the screen and- yes, it’s definitely Dick’s number.

“Hello?” Not Dick says again. He sounds incredibly familiar.

“Jason?” Tim croaks, shoving the phone back against his ear.

A pause, then, “Replacement?”

The harsh nickname makes him flinch, and Tim thinks he really should just hang up. Knowing Jason and his tendency to pick on Tim, to shout or cuss, he’d only make things worse. Normally Tim can handle it, but not today.

“Why do you have Dick’s phone?” he asks instead. He curls back in the position he was in before Jason picked up.

“Stole it,” Jason answers simply. “What are you doing calling him at-” a pause, “four in the morning.”

Tim opens his mouth to make an excuse, to say something that appease Jason’s curiosity so Tim can hang up and not be subject to anymore ridicule today, what comes out instead is a wounded, animal noise.

“What the fuck,” Jason says. “Are you crying?”

“No,” Tim says, his voice wobbling. It’s a dead give away that he’s crying.

“What happened? Are you hurt? Are you safe?”

“Yes I’m safe,” Tim says quickly. “I just needed someone to talk to, I guess.”

“Oh,” Jason says. “Dickie’s pretty good at that, huh?”

“Yeah.” Tim should hang up now, before things get even more awkward, but he can’t find it in himself to pull the phone away from his ear and end the call. And, for some reason, Jason isn’t hanging up either.  “What are you up to?” he asks, then cringes at the lame question.

“Burying a body.”

Tim snorts. “Wait. Really?”

“Hell no, I’m a crime boss, Timmy. I’ve got people who get paid to bury bodies for me.”

“I can’t tell if you’re kidding or not.”

Jason laughs, a loud boyish sound that shouldn’t come from a man hiring people to bury bodies for him. Tim decides it’s not true. Probably not true. Then Jason says, “Nah I’m just hanging around the base, playing a few rounds of Mario Kart with Biz.”

“Tell Red-Bird Me say hello!” a distant, excited shout comes from Jason’s end.

“Bizarro says hello, Tim.”

“Hello Biz,” Tim says softly, knowing Bizarro will be able to hear him.

“Tell Red-Bird if he am needing tissues, me can fly some over!” Again, he’s talking loud enough that Jason doesn’t need to repeat his words. “Me do it for Red-Him when he cries.”

“Okay,” Jason says quickly. “That’s my cue to take this conversation to a different room. Biz, you stay here and don’t cheat.”

“Me would never!”

Tim hears Jason shuffling around before a door slams shut, signaling Jason moving away from Biz.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” Tim says.

“Why would I be embarrassed?”

“Because of what Bizarro said.”

“Oh,” Jason sounds surprised, like that hadn’t occurred to him. “I’m not embarrassed about crying. I just didn’t want him telling you the things that make me cry. Can’t have you telling the rest of the bats my weaknesses.”

“I already know them.”

“Oh really?”

“Really,” Tim says, smiling playing on his lips. “Your daddy issues, shiny things, Bizarro, and red-heads that are taller than you.”

“Oh no. Looks like you’ve figured me out,” Jason’s chuckle is low and pleasing to Tim’s ears. “You don’t have to be embarrassed either,” he adds, more seriously. “Crying isn’t something to be ashamed of and neither is needing to talk to someone about it, even if that person is complete shit at comforting.”

Tim laughs, and sniffs. He actually stopped crying around the beginning of the conversation, the shock of actually having a pleasant conversation with Jason overcoming his grief. His nose is taking awhile to get the memo though. “You’re doing okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Tim agrees. “Thank you.”

“Well uh. Good.” Jason clears his throat. “We can keep talking…if you want.”

Tim breathes in, a deep, even breath that comes easier than all the ones before. “I’d really like that.”

For the writing meme: Tim&Dami “The answer is always blood magic” I can just hear the tired/sarcastic/done/exasperated tone of voice either of them would use for that. Please and thank you. Also, it’s a Dragon Age quote and I’m unable to pass it up.

chibinightowl:

Lookie what I got done tonight! Set in the same universe as How to Summon Me on a Monday Morning.

~*~*~

Damian scowls fiercely at Tim, his little face puckered up even worse than the time he was forced to admit Tim was right about something. That’s a good memory, but now is not the time for happy thoughts or pixie dust.

“You will undo this, Drake.”

“I’m trying, Damian,” Tim replies just as crossly, flipping through his spellbook. “I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m not exactly thrilled about it either.”

“This is all your fault.”

Tim slams the book shut and glares at the boy. “You’re the one who went through my spellbook in the first place. Try again.”

For a brief moment, Damian has the grace to look shamefaced, his gaze dropping to the carefully sealed cardboard box at his feet. It’s hard to miss the protective symbols drawn on the lid and along each side of the box. There’s probably even symbols on the bottom. “I was trying to find something to help her.”

This is why Tim can’t be righteously furious at the young animagus. Damian is so in tune with the needs of animals that the family swears he’s more empath than mage. Thank the gods he is still too young to shape-shift.

“I know and that’s the only reason why I haven’t turned you into a toad.”

The now undead cat in the box lets out a ghastly hiss that manages to send chills down Tim’s spine. From the looks of it, Damian is spooked too.

Good.

Tim opens his book again and flips to the spell he’s fairly certain Damian tried on his own. It’s the only one that deals with raising the dead, although the spell on the next page is one he uses more often, which is banishing the magics used to raise the creatures. “Does this look familiar?”

Damian leans cautiously across the table, trying to avoid knocking into anything. “Yes, I believe so. I recall the part about this being a blood spell.”

Shaking his head, Tim grumbles under his breath. “The answer is always blood magic. Stupid half-hearted sacrifices.”

“What was that, Drake? I believe Pennyworth has stated more than once that you shouldn’t mumble.”

Tim glares. This is why he doesn’t live at home anymore, even if it does mean he has to cook and clean for himself. “When you’re performing necromancy, it’s the act of killing one creature and releasing their life energy that’s used primarily to fuel the spell to raise the undead. The greater the sacrifice, the more powerful the spell.” He pushes his glasses up his nose. “What did you kill?”

Damian stands stiffly even as his dead cat howls again. This time, it doesn’t bother Tim so much. In fact, if he could get away with it, this would be a great way to scare away those pesky sales people who insist on knocking on his door all the time. How they manage to get past his wards, he hasn’t a clue.

“I didn’t kill anything,” the boy replies proudly.

“Then that’s why Athena is trying to eat you,” Tim retorts without missing a beat. “Did you really think you could raise the dead without sacrificing something?”

“I spilled over a third of a cup of my own blood.”

Tim frowns and tries really hard not to strangle Damian. There’s only one way to deal with this now. “No wonder she turned out like this. Give me the box.”

Damian stands protectively in front of it. “I will not let you hurt her.”

“The cat is dead, she won’t feel a thing,” Tim says. “You know this as well as I do, even if you don’t want to admit it.”

The kid sighs and looks away. They both pretend those aren’t tears he’s battling against in his eyes. “Fine,” Damian says after a moment. “Just…can I watch?”

Tim thinks about it briefly. It’s entirely possible the cat is possessed and if she is, then he’ll need Jason to help banish the demon, however minor it is. Summoner he may be, but he also has a surprising talent for holy magic.

“Probably not,” he replies. “If she’s what I think she is now, I’ll need to call Jason and have him bring that flaming knife of his.” The one that burns blue from holy flames when in the presence of evil. Like in that one movie they like to watch and make fun of before moving on to more interesting things than wasting their time on a movie they’ve seen a million times already.

Damian shakes his head resolutely. “I’m the one who did this to Athena. I should see it through to the end.”

It’s a brave statement for a twelve year old boy but Tim rises from his work table to place a hand on Damian’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t want you to see this,” he says. “Remember her as the cat she was before.”

Not as the screaming doorstop he’s still half tempted to turn her into. Perhaps he can find a stuffed one online that he can reanimate. If anything, it would be an amusing way to spend Halloween and give the trick-or-treaters something to really scream about. He used to have a bird that would dive bomb unwanted visitors until Jason shot it.

Once again, they both pretend Damian isn’t crying when he turns his head away to stare at the wall and the gloomy bookcase full of arcane crap Tim inherited from his parents. Neither of them were exceptionally powerful in their craft but he makes up for that in spades.

“Okay,” Damian says in a small voice. “Will I be able to lay her to rest when you’re done?”

Tim nods. “I’ll make sure to save the all ashes for you.” All things considered, he feels he’s being a great big brother for not keeping some of the ashes aside for spell components. It would be well within his right to demand such and Damian knows it. “You should go now.”

Damian nods again and kneels in front of the now growling box. “I’m sorry, Athena. I should have known better. Farewell.”

The growling turns into a shriek as Damian leaves the room. Tim waits until he’s left the house before slipping on a pair of rune-stitched gardening gloves. He’ll need all the protection he can get.

Kneeling in front of the box, Tim carefully opens the lid. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

He slams it shut almost instantly as a malevolent aura fills the room. “Shit.”

Well then. Time to call his other half. Picking up his phone, he presses his second most used speed dial. “Hey, Jace…you won’t believe what Damian did this time…”

For Jaytim, could I request you write the fluffiest nap cuddles in the history of man? Or just something fluffy my dude, up to you. Louisa <3

glaciya:

I did something fluffy and a lil angsty because I feel like I’ve been writing a lot of jaytim cuddles lately, which is always wonderful but I don’t want do bore anyone with too many otp cuddles lol. Thanks for sending this in, I hope you like it!

_________

He’s not sure what it is that makes him take notice of Tim. It could be all his training as a bat, or it could be that B’s briefing is boring enough to make both his mind and his eyes wander.

It’s all the same stuff anyway.

A criminal escaped Arkham again so Bruce wants to take them down again and Jason is expected not to kill killers again. Lame, boring stuff. He’s too tired to argue, so he lets B’s voice fade into the background.

The batcave takes over his attention first, filling him with bitter nostalgia. It’s not a crushing as the first time he came back, so Jason figures he’s made some sort of progress at least. He remembers nearly trembling with excitement the first time he put on the Robin costume, hiding from Bruce and Alfred just so he could try and surprise them. He remembers polishing up the batmobile, lecturing B to be more careful next time he was in pursuit and wondering why his scolding had made Bruce smile. He remembers climbing on top of the T-Rex’s head to study for college placement exams he’d never get the chance to take.

He turns his attention to the rest of B’s little soldiers then, most of them are seated at the large table with Bruce. Bruce is at the head of course, Damian to his right and Barbara to his left. Next to Damian is Dick, Duke sits next to Barb, Steph and Cass are each three seats from Bruce, across from each other, and Kate sits on the end of the table opposite of Bruce. There are still two seats open in front of Kate. One to her right where Jason should sit, but he’s standing a little ways back from the table, leaning against the computer desk. Tim stands behind the one to her left, keeping it pushed close to the table and crossing his arms over his chest.

An odd thought strikes Jason then. A comparison. Jason’s self-imposed distance successfully separates himself from the family he’s no longer apart of. Tim’s distance almost makes it seem like he wants to be apart of the group and something happened to make him question his place with them.

It causes an odd ache in his chest that lasts throughout the rest of briefing and even after they start breaking off into patrol groups. Bruce and Damian head to old Gotham, Dick and Babs take on the Central Hall district, Steph and Cass cover Robinson Park, and Kate goes off on her own toward the Fashion district on the east side. That leaves Jason and Tim with the west side.

The ache intensifies when Jason slaps a hand on Tim’s shoulder and he tenses. It’s not quite a jump, but the way his muscles don’t relax under Jason’s palm and his wary gaze is somehow worse.

“Looks like we’re together for this one,” Jason says, ignoring Tim’s reaction. “Where should we start?”

Tim shrugs his shoulder out of Jason’s grip and takes a step back. “West side is plenty big. How about you start on the central border and I’ll start at the docks. We’ll meet in the middle when we’re done.”

“Yeah, or we could just stick together.”

A heavy pause, then, “Why?”

“Why not?” Jason frowns. “It’s less boring when you have a crime fighting buddy with you.”

“How would you know?”

“Ever heard of the Outlaws?” Jason scoffs before he continues. “Why does everyone think I don’t have any friends?”

This makes Tim laugh. It’s a quiet thing, almost like he’s scared of it. It makes Jason want to hug him. He resists though, knowing just based on Tim’s reaction to his touch earlier it wouldn’t be welcomed.

“Alright, we can patrol together,” Tim says slowly. “If you want.”

Jason grins. “Sweet.”

So together, they take on the streets of west side Gotham. Kicking ass, taking names, saving civilians, and trading quips. Jason shows Tim he can be trusted to have his back in a fight. He shows Tim that he trusts Tim to watch his back in a fight. They never disappoint each other. He makes a point of not letting silences stretch too long, making Tim laugh at even jokes that would earn Jason nasty looks from the rest of the family, and feeling victorious when Tim’s replies come quicker and his laughs more frequent.

By the end of it, Jason suspects that Tim hasn’t had this good of a time in a long while. He still hasn’t tried to touch Tim again, knowing anything unannounced would be unwelcome, so he tries something else instead.

Crouched on his heels on the head of his favorite gargoyle, Jason raises his right hand up, palm facing toward where Tim is sitting on the gargoyle next to him.

“High five for our first successful patrol together?”

Tim smiles and raises his hand to meet Jason, it’s a quick touch and it’s so gentle that the noise it makes is barely there, but it’s something. “First? Does this mean we’ll be teaming up more often from now on?”

“If you want.”

“I want. And you were right, you know.” Tim dangles his legs over either side of the gargoyle’s head and swings them back at forth. “It is less boring with a crime fighting buddy.”