Reveals are up for the DickTim 2023 Secret Santa exchange, yay! Here's mine, for @the-alice-of-hearts - hope that you enjoy, and that everyone has a happy end of the year!
let your heart be light
rating: T+
tags: tim drake/dick grayson, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, alpha dick grayson, omega tim drake, pining, mutual pining, first kisses, kisses in the snow, christmas, holiday fic exchange
summary:
Light but steady snowfall, just starting to dust the leaves and carpet the ground. Faint bootprints in the fresh powder, leading to a trim figure in a long, dark coat, turned away with his lovely face lifted in profile to watch the drifting heavens.
Snowflakes caught in Tim’s hair like scattered pearls.
Dick’s breath hushes to almost nothing in his chest, drinking him in.
idea gripping my tired brain by the throat about Tim being struck by some kind of sleeping beauty poison or spell and falling comatose.
Except the solution is not True Love's Kiss but sending someone inside his soul to battle the dragon that will manifest from his inner demons to keep him imprisoned, forever.
The highest chance for success necessitates sending in the one person that the sleeper trusts most - often their love, hence the poison/spell's reputation, but not always.
And almost everyone immediately turns to Dick, like in you go, Nightwing, what are you waiting for.
Which Dick. Doesn't know how to react to, because. God he would give anything to be that person for Tim again. But he knows that he broke something between them when he stripped away Robin.
They've moved past it, they're...fine. But Dick knows. It's not the same. They aren't the same.
He can't help Tim with this. Tim probably wouldn't even want him to try. And that kills him, but he won't sabotage Tim's only shot to wake up because of his own desperate wish to still be the one Tim turns to first. His north star.
There's a ticking-clock time limit before Tim won't be able to wake up at all. They don't have any time to lose.
He looks away from everyone's expectant, demanding stares.
"Call Superboy," he says, voice scraped raw from his throat. "Or Kid Flash. They'll get here in time."
He can't stand the disappointment on Bruce's face. It makes helpless anger boil hot and toxic in his belly. Bruce wasn't here for everything that happened. He doesn't know.
(Dick's never told him. How badly he fucked up.)
"Wait, not his boyfriend?'" Steph says, raised eyebrows and gesticulating at nowhere in particular and Dick's churning thoughts sputter and die into frozen blankness. Boyfriend?
Babs shakes her head on the Batcomputer's view screen.
"They're not at that level of trust yet. They haven't even been dating that long, Tim definitely hasn't told him about - " she twirls a finger, indicating all of them. Red Robin on the medical bed, cowl pushed down and cape pooled around him. The Cave, vaulting overhead. " - all of this. And he won't thank us for doing it for him."
Tim...has a boyfriend?
Wow. His little brother used to always want his advice on love. Life. Everything. If he doesn't trust Dick enough anymore to tell him even that much... Well. It just proves definitively that Dick isn't the right person for this job.
(It hurts like Dick's vital organs are being crushed in a massive fist.)
"Time is ticking," Jason Blood says quietly, looking down at the open face of his pocket watch. At his feet, a circle of lit candles awaits someone to sit down inside and sink into an enchanted meditation.
"Father, clearly it should be you," Damian says, tapping his foot rapidly. His arms are crossed tightly under his cape in a way that he probably means to come across as scornful, rather than apprehensive. "Or Pennyworth, even."
Bruce shakes his head, troubled. "No. I don't think so. Cassie...?"
"No," Cass responds calmly. "Not me." She seems untroubled by her own denial, even though she and Tim have been thick as thieves ever since she returned to Gotham.
She's looking at Dick. She hasn't looked away from Dick this whole time, or let go of Tim's hand, folded in hers protectively, over his heart.
"It's still you, big brother," she says. Gentle and direct and devastating. "Go. Bring him back."
Not so long ago, Tim trusted Dick to catch him when he fell.
Or, he was depressed and passively suicidal and telling Dick what he wanted to hear. Maybe he even believed it, after the fact.
In the end, it doesn't matter. He's Dick's brother. Dick will always, always be there to catch him, whether Tim trusts him to or not.
Dick goes.
He faces Tim, sinks into lotus inside the ring of flickering little flames, and closes his eyes, heart in his throat.
He opens his eyes. A vast, jagged bramble forest looms dark above him. Far in the distance, he can just make out a spindly tower piercing the sky, a flickering little light shining at the top.
He hacks his way through the biting brambles of Tim's resentments, leaving blood and sorrows dripping from the thorns in his wake.
He fights the sly, sinuous dragon of Tim's despair, singing with every breath that he can spare, so that Tim might hear him and know he's not alone.
He wishes he could remember happy songs, bright and lively songs - wishes he could be the light in the darkness that Tim deserves, that he looked up to and chased after and for some reason tried to model himself upon, even when he was already so very bright himself.
But any song is better than none to pierce the lonely vault of silence, so he sings of pain, of loss, of faith and faithlessness. Of holding on past the point of breaking. He sings of two hands open and outstretched, waiting to be clasped and held.
When his voice falters, when adamant scales break his sword and claws shatter his shield, he throws himself at the winged serpent, letting it coil about him and grappling it in turn. Fangs strike at him again and again, piercing flesh and armor both, before he winds his arms around its jaws and holds them shut.
It hisses through clenched teeth about failures, his and Tim's both. He holds its jaws shut, and sings of two ships tossed in a maelstrom, anchored to each other, weathering the storm.
It hisses, venom dripping from its furious curled lips, about abandonment and betrayal. He holds its jaws shut, and sings about two robins, flying with an olive branch held aloft between them.
It hisses to him of ice unending, frozen hearts, shattered trust. He holds its jaws shut, and sings about the steady radiating warmth of a hearth, of a hug, of a new dawn. Of new beginnings.
He rests his forehead on the dragon's growling snout, and sings, "Come home with me. Come home to me. Tim, I love you. Tim, Tim, Tim."
The beast shudders and shivers. And starts to break apart.
The crumbling wings buffet and beat at Dick even as they begin to crack and collapse. Dick lowers his head and holds on tighter.
The massive coiled tail squeezes around Dick convulsively, thrashing and withering. Dick's ribs crack, but he holds on tighter.
Scales etched with Tim's regrets flake off and fall away, like a tree shedding razor edged leaves in autumn. Dick closes his eyes as they kiss and cut his already tattered skin, but just holds on tighter.
Eventually, the violent disintegration comes to an end, and all goes still and quiet.
Save for a familiar shape shaking and weeping in Dick's arms.
Dick opens his eyes, blinking away sweat and blood just to be sure. But yes. It's him. Blue eyes reddened with tears, staring in horror at the ragged torn-up mess of his older brother, come to rescue him.
"Tim," Dick sighs, bones papier-mâché from relief. And exhaustion. "Timmy. Thank god."
"Dick," Tim cries out, gripping him tightly in distress. He lets go immediately at Dick's wince, and tries to pull away. "I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry, I'm - your wounds, we have to - "
Dick doesn't let him move an inch. "Shhhhhh," he breathes. "It's a dream, don't worry about it." Tim wriggles in protest at first, determinedly attempting to staunch some of the heavier bleeding, but Dick just holds him tighter. "Please, Timmy," he begs. "Please. Just let me."
Tim's breath hitches, then he wraps his arms around Dick just as hard as Dick is squeezing him, strong and anchoring. Dick's own breath shudders on the edge of a whine, and he buries his nose in Tim's hair.
-----
"Missed you," he whispers hoarsely, several minutes later.
Tim lifts his face from where he's been leaking a silent wet spot into Dick's collarbone.
"Missed you, too," he whispers back, as if they're sharing secrets and might be overheard.
Then Tim hesitates, before setting his mouth firmly. He meets Dick's gaze, and there's a fierce light in his still reddened eyes that transfixes Dick. He almost lost this. He almost lost Tim - so many times, more than he probably even knows about. He never wants to look away.
"And I love you, too, you know. That's never changed. It never will change." His brow is furrowed intently, gaze searching Dick's, like he can find and burn away any hint of doubt or disbelief.
"I know," Dick murmurs, warm down to his battered toes. Tim's alive. Tim's going to wake up, and keep living. Tim loves him, and forgives him, and still trusts him more than anyone else. "I do know. I - "
He releases one arm from its death grip, because he can no longer resist the urge to cup Tim's face, stroke a thumb across his cheek. Tim closes his eyes briefly as he covers Dick's hand with his, leaning into it, brows still drawn together. Like he's in pain, even though all the dings and scratches are on Dick, not him.
Dick's heart seizes.
He dips down, to the impossibly inviting bow of Tim's mouth, and kisses him. At Tim's small, quiet gasp, he gentles further, catching Tim's lips, pulling the full lower curve between his own in a soft tug. To his delight, Tim follows him, chasing his mouth, and they share the sweet cling and press, back and forth.
-----
Dick's wounds are somehow all still present upon waking. Magic, ugh, such a pain. The resulting frenzy of medical attention and getting bundled into another bed - too far away from Tim - like he's one foot through death's door isn't exactly fun, either.
(But still. Well worth it, for that first moment Tim's eyes flutter open and hazily lock on his. The world can keep spinning, now that Dick knows Tim is safe.)
As it turns out, Tim's recollection of what happened inside his own soul is equally hazy.
He remembers enough to melt bonelessly into Dick's chest when Dick sneaks over to share his bed, which dissolves the hard knot of worried tension in Dick's chest that he wouldn't remember anything, that he'd be back to subtle distance and awkward texts and not even feeling comfortable enough to share that he likes men, and Dick. Isn't sure he could have handled that.
So he ignores his aching ribs and multiple lacerations and puncture wounds and curls around Tim with his whole body, warmth and gratitude suffusing every aching muscle.
Tim...doesn't seem to remember the kiss. Which. Is a shame.
But Dick remembers it. Every moment is burned into him like the most intimate pyrography. That will have to be enough, until he can make it happen again.
is from a story mostly in the conceptual stage where Nightwing rescues Tim Wayne and it's caught on camera and blasted everywhere in the news cycle (oops). And then in interviews afterwards, Tim - for SOME REASON - decides to take advantage of this moment to publicly come out as bi. Y'know, just casually. By swooning over his dashing savior, Nightwing. Everyone swoons over Nightwing, right? It's hashtag #relatable, the media can nod in commiseration and then just move on.
Except no. Of course not. It becomes a Thing. The internet ships Nightwing/Tim Wayne. There's memes. There's art.
So of course Tim has to lean into it, he's a troll, it's his nature. Heads up, N, he's just gonna be feeding the flames at every opportunity. You don't mind, do you?
and of course :) Dick is fine :) it's just joke-flirting haha :) Dick is fun and hip and also a troll and can roll with the jokes :) he is not losing his mind at all :) no sir :) once he gets over the shock he's only 80% sure that Tim is deliberately fucking with him so he can't pin him to a wall and teach him a lesson (with his mouth) because of the 20% chance that Tim IS just joking and isn't actually into him (!!!! that was a POSSIBILITY??!!) hahahahaha this is TOTALLY FINE :))))))
I think I've seen most everybody I know tagged in this already :|a so I will just open this up as a general tag to anyone who wants to play <3
Tim reluctantly switching the Red Robin mask from a full cowl back to a domino even though he's not too pleased about losing the greater level of protection - because Dick!Bats (and then Nightwing once Dick switched back) kept automatically going for hair ruffles and getting Big, Big Sad at being cruelly Blocked.
Every. Single. Time.
Nightwing: (morosely rubbing over the curve of Red Robin's smooth black head) it's just not the same...
Red Robin: stop acting like I went bald you drama queen :/
Nightwing: oh Magic 8 Ball, will Little Red's hair ever return from the war...? 👋👋👋😔
Red Robin: quit it! (slapping hands) that's not even how Magic 8 Balls work and you know it 👿
Nightwing: I had a little brother once... with fluffy black hair... I remember when he was thirteen and tiny and not even Robin yet, he came to me for training and told me how much helping people meant to him... and I ruffled his hair for the very first time... 😔
Red Robin: this is really what you wanna do right now? guilt trip me over sensible full cover head protection?
Nightwing: are you still mad at me? is that what this is? your personal rejection of me, personally, because you no longer want my love and affection? 😔😢💔
Red Robin: 🙄 not everything is about you, Dick-- (belatedly remembers they're on an open rooftop, oops 😳 ...oh well, anyone listening would probably assume he meant it the other way)
Nightwing: 😔💔
Red Robin: ...(sighs and knocks his shoulder against Dick's) we literally patrol together twice a week, in what universe am I still mad? I'm just tired of all the head trauma.
Nightwing: 😔💔
Red Robin: 😑
Nightwing: 🥺
Red Robin: 😑😑😑
Red Robin: (shows up at their next joint patrol with a domino mask and fluffy, free-flowing hair) 😒 happy?
okay but following up on this gorgeous art and potential Dick-infiltrates-a-harem fic
what if it's like a trafficking situation and once he infiltrates he's constantly trying to draw all attention to himself to protect the other people there until the rescue operation can kick off. Just the flashiest, most gorgeously seductive outfits and behavior.
And he's successful at it, too - it's less nauseating to him when he can treat it as a performance, distance himself from it, weaponize the looks and charisma that have drawn him attention (both wanted and really, really unwanted) his entire life. When he can use the helpless attraction that people react to him with in order to draw the master's gaze away from those less equipped to handle it, less able to protect themselves.
he's especially trying to shield this younger boy, who is dangerously, magnetically beautiful, and who was very obviously - very unfortunately - The Favorite until Dick arrived. He even looks a bit similar to Dick, superficially - soft black hair, and pale blue eyes that sharpen so keenly whenever his gaze catches on Dick. So unlike the hazy, half-lidded look he's always giving the master.
Watching that man put his filthy hands all over the kid makes Dick feel sick. He re-doubles his efforts to never let them be alone, barely even wearing clothes anymore to catch and keep the master's eye on him, instead.
only for Tim to be like. So I know you're new here, and this protectiveness is...really sweet and kind and everything, but. You're stealing my shtick. I'm the self-sacrificial lamb protecting everyone else around here by drawing away the worst of the attention. I can take care of myself, you don't have to...put on that act, put yourself in the line of fire - not for me.
And Dick is like yes I do - at least until I can get you all out of here. god, you shouldn't have to do any of that either, I want to break his hand every time he touches you--
And Tim is like I knew it, I knew you had to be either a cop or a vigilante, okay what's the plan, I'm fully on board, here's all the security information and blackmail I've been gathering, we're burning this place to the ground, right?
My dicktim week day 4 fic is still very much in the 'feeling out the direction and vibes, typing up stuff that may or may not actually survive to the finished fic' stage, so with that caveat:
He jack-knifed sharply at the top of his arc - and dived. Closed his eyes and let the wind twist around him like a lover as he fell. Turned his face into it, blindly seeking in the dark.
I always end up tagging people who have already been tagged hghkldjf, so sorry if that's the case!!! If you're interested in playing, @kgraces, @wintersplinterblossom, and @marirah? No pressure!! <3
For the wip ask game, could you say more about the DickTim reverse robin AU? 👀
Ahhh, I love that one, but it has several backstory/set-up arcs before the romance can even kick off hghkkldjfs THE STRUGGLES
OKAY SO. This is a story about a young Dick being in love with a years-older Tim from childhood, reversing their usual ship dynamic. Most of what I have so far is concerning their backstories, when Dick is still quite young (5-10-ish), so it's more of a puppy love at that point, while Tim sees him as a child.
Overview of the first arc below the cut.
First off, 12-year-old Tim is newly training to be Shrike (the hero identity Damian Wayne abandoned (or Batman took away from him; opinions differ) after he and Bruce had a serious falling out). As part of that training, he's sent to learn from various experts in physical and crime-fighting arts, much as Bruce did when he first left Gotham, or as Tim was meant to on his first Paris trip in canon.
So Tim ends up training in acrobatics for a month with the famous Flying Graysons, whom he has long admired - along with their 5-year-old wunderkind son, Dickie. Who absolutely adores Tim, following him around everywhere, showing off his own (legitimately incredible) skills, sweetly promising to 'teach Timmy everything he knows' and insisting on flying with Tim on the trapeze at every opportunity. Tim fully dotes on him, and Dick just blooms like a little flower whenever he has the older boy's attention.
When Tim isn't training (or catering to Dick's adorably bossy whims), he's often taking pictures with the beloved camera he couldn't bring himself to leave at home. And the circus provides such a vivid panorama to capture - something new every moment!
Once, however, he unknowingly photographs something dangerous, and when someone is sent to steal the evidence (ie Tim's camera), Dickie walks in on the attempted theft. He starts to shout, but is immediately grabbed and a hand clamped over his mouth. Dickie struggles harder, kicking and screaming even with his mouth closed, so the man shushing him grips even tighter, his big hand covering the whole of Dickie's tiny mouth and nose.
Dickie soon starts to suffocate.
Until Tim bursts in, fast and furious. Dick, still thrashing weakly but fading fast, sees Tim run up and do a flying kick to take down the other thug on the scene. He hears Tim yell out for him, just as his eyes roll up and he loses consciousness.
Tim ends up having to perform CPR - luckily, learning first aid, including forms of CPR for all ages, was one of the first things Bruce set him to learning.
Dickie wakes up with Tim breathing life into him, while John and Mary also kneel close by, frantic, with various circus folk pacing on phones to 9-1-1 or kicking the tied-up thugs in the background.
Dickie stares up at Tim, the fuzzy white static of oxygen deprivation painting a halo all around him in Dickie's vision. His knight in shining armor!!! His HERO!!!!!!
(Meanwhile, Tim is trying not to break down crying or hug Dickie so tight in relief that he has trouble breathing again.)
The Graysons REALLY adopt Tim after that. The whole circus does.
("I'm gonna marry Timmy!" Dickie insists after they get home from the hospital. He's suckered Tim onto his bed with him with tearful eyes (Tim really didn't need much prodding to come and cuddle him immediately) and is glommed onto Tim's waist, clinging. "Just you watch." Mary teases (somewhat emotionally) that Tim already stole Dickie's first kiss, so of course he has to make an honest boy of him. Then Tim can be a Grayson 'officially' - hurray, she's so happy!)
(Tim can't stop smiling, so he hides it by pressing his lips to Dickie's hair.)
Tim keeps in contact with Mary, John, and especially Dick after he has to leave. Video calls, texts, postcards, the works. And he makes time to fly out whenever Haly's is traveling the eastern seaboard - to visit, cheer on their performances, spend time playing around with Dickie all over the circus and on the trapeze.
He's family.
("He's my fiance," Dickie corrects. "I thought you said he was your older brother?" one of the clowns asks, tapping his nose teasingly. "Same thing," Dickie sniffs, batting him away.)
So of course 8-year-old Dick notices immediately when Tim stops returning his texts. And his emails. And answering his phone - until his voicemail fills all the way up from Dickie's frantic calls.
It takes them a while to track down Tim's obituary, and the write-up of his funeral, in the Gotham Gazette. Tim had been so private about the people in his life away from the circus, so they hadn't had anyone else to call and ask, and limited resources to put into the search from their tour on the other side of the continent.
When they find out, Dick sinks to the floor and curls into a ball, a silent little pillbug of lost, confused grief. Mary scoops him up and wraps herself around him, and John wraps himself around Mary. They rock, and they soak each other's skin with tears, until Dick's heart cracks open and a thin, wavering wail pours out. It never seems to stop.
Okay so I forgot - this file actually has two separate ideas because I was trying to decide which one to actually develop.
Idea 1
A happy, healthy 25-yo Tim is dropped back in Gotham a couple of weeks after Red Robin first left the city.
He's a huge shock to a 24-yo Dick struggling with, among other things, the weight of the Bat mantle, grief over Bruce, frustration with Damian, and worry and guilt over his pissed-off, grief-stricken, unstable younger brother who hasn't answered any of his calls since Dick let him ride off to god knows where, to do god knows what.
This older Tim is so…warm. Calm. Steady. (Gorgeous.) He jokes and smiles at Dick without any shadows (the way Tim used to smile at him), and hugs him without hesitation, ignoring the way Dick stiffens up like a board before slowly, slowly melting into him. (Clutching at him.)
He brushes off Damian! Doesn't take his shit, but mostly seems amused by him. Wow. Dick can't even manage that most of the time, not yet.
He drives Dick crazy by refusing to tell him any spoilers about (a) what his 17-year-old self is up to, or (b) what any of their lives are like in the future. He won't even tell Dick his new vigilante name, even though Dick knows he has to have one!
He also shuts down Dick's halting apology for his own screw-ups with swift, excruciating kindness.
"Sorry, Dick, but no," the older Tim says, eyes soft but voice firm. "Tell this to him. The next time you see him."
Idea 2
Sort of an inverse of the above, actually. Red Robin!Tim has just passed out in the desert after being run through by the Widower. He wakes up in a comfortable bed (?), unharmed (???), being spooned by Dick (???????).
Needless to say, he thinks it's a dying hallucination - or maybe he's already dead? (Is this heaven? he thinks, tracing a finger down the muscles of Dick's forearm, wrapped firmly around his stomach.)
He's torn between his still simmering anger and resentment for Dick, and a sort of manic recklessness. This is obviously not real, so why shouldn't he turn around when this dream!Dick kisses his shoulder - why shouldn't he grab Dick and kiss him back - kiss him so hard he makes a delicious little 'mmph!' noise as he's pressed down into the mattress?
Why shouldn't he grip Dick's wrists too tight, bite the stupid tempting curve of his lower lip too aggressively - because Tim just died in the fucking desert. Right after finding proof that Bruce was alive.
He failed to save Bruce. Failed to keep his shit together, just like Dick transparently knew he would. Failed to come back to Dick, to prove him wrong for not believing Tim, for choosing someone else.
(If he kisses Dick hard enough, he can keep himself from breaking apart. Right? ...Right?)
Dick figures out immediately that something is Very Fucking Wrong with his husband :/
