I’m a disaster || He/Him || Main: @woop02 ||AO3: @Woop02 (I dabble in shenanigans from time to time) || Pfp made by @a-sketchy-character <3 || Respectfully, b@tcest shippers please DNI
Dedicated to @queerbutstillhere-writes and inspired by their Alliance of Empires
TW: Violence, Implied/Referenced Suicide
Find it on AO3 here: (X)
“You and your men have already taken my friends- my family- everything I have ever loved,” the archer said, his voice hoarse. “You’ve slaughtered Dinah. Thea. Emiko. Cissie. Artemis- people you once professed to care for. You’ve corrupted Roy and Lian.” He was in tears now. It was clear to him that there was no escape. Not this time.
“You should finish the job,” he spat, the muscles in his neck straining as he sent droplets of saliva and hatred in Damian’s direction.
In an instant, Jon had practically teleported from where he was standing at the foot of Damian’s palanquin and his fist was closed around Oliver’s neck. Even if General Ducard and Commander Branden were able to move at the speed which Jon could, they knew better than to intervene in a direct challenge to Emperor al Ghul. Not even General Todd would be so bold. Yet, the Kryptonian, despite being one of Damian’s generals, seemed unconcerned with formalities. His cape had yet to stop moving from when he dashed, but he began: “YOU DARE ADDRESS YOUR EMPEROR, THE DEMON-”
Damian raised his left hand, the metallic clink of his rings signalling Jon to stand down just before his fingers would have torn through Oliver’s throat. The man let out an ‘oomph’ when he fell to the hard ground, gasping for air as tears trickled down his face.
The Emperor rose from where he sat in his palanquin, his breath visible against the cold forest air. The frost-laden ground crunched when his boots made contact.
Oliver shut his eyes, listening for the whistle of Damian’s sword cutting through the air to let him know that his pain on this Earth was finally over. At least now he could be reunited with those he loved. But nothing came. Not the whistling of Damian’s sword, and certainly not his footsteps.
He opened his eyes to find Damian looming over him. When their eyes met, Damian seized his jaw and forced him upward to eye level. It was at this point that Mr. Queen decided he would not die a coward. He would remain stoic in these final moments, not giving Damian the satisfaction of seeing him quiver or beg despite how frail and vulnerable he felt following the Kryptonian’s booming voice that probably accounted for a bit of the blood trickling from his ears.
Damian pulled Oliver close so that he was only a head’s width away. Oliver now knew why the others in the Justice League had been so afraid of him. Sure, the kid’s natural talent for wasting his enemies was scary, but it was nothing compared to the eyes that threatened to strip Oliver’s soul from his body and envelop him in nothingness. If Damian’s eyes didn’t soften when they did, Oliver was sure Damian wouldn’t have to kill him- his heart would give out and do the job for him. This must be why we call him The Demon, Oliver thought.
The boy possessed a darkness when Oliver trained him briefly, but nothing like this. What could have happened that turned him into this?
Damian moved his face closer until the two were just inches apart. Jon’s breath hitched and he curled his fists in jealousy.
“Do it yourself,” Damian stated.
“What do you m-”
“Do it yourself.”
The message was clear now. He was to kill himself. It wasn’t said like an order, but Oliver knew better. This was not a request. He had been bested in battle. Not by the Emperor, no- but by one of his generals. He was worth nothing. Not the time that the Emperor would have spent chasing him down. Not even worth the trouble of being killed by Damian himself- or even by one of his generals, for that matter.
Damian turned towards General Ducard, who held the key to his bonds. “Let him go,” he said.
Maya complied.
That was the last anyone ever saw of Oliver Queen.
Note that I wrote this the night before at 4am and didn't edit it, so please excuse any format, spelling, and grammatical errors. No beta we die like Jason Todd and Wally West uwu
Find it on AO3 here: (X)
There’s a common misconception about Gotham City being loud at night. It makes sense, right? Gunshots, bus and car engines running, horns honking, bright headlights that seem to produce their own kind of volume when they hit your eyes. Well that notion is incorrect… kind of. Gotham City can actually be very lovely and quiet at night- at least in parts of the east end and fashion districts. There is another part of Gotham, though, that maintains some level of quiescence after dark- Little Italy.
Little Italy holds a special place in the heart of Timothy Drake. Timothy Drake- or as he is known to Gotham Gazette journalists and criminal underworld- Catlad, is one of many petty thieves scattered around Gotham. What other thieves lack, though, is training from burglar Selina Kyle- the Catwoman.
Selina saved Timothy from an untimely death at the hands of a mob boss after he caught the boy rummaging through the trash bins outside of a restaurant used as a front for mob business because he was at the wrong place during the wrong time and heard too much. It also didn’t help that Tim had been wearing the watch he lifted off the same man earlier that same day. Timothy, like the Dark Knight, enjoyed the company of his wealthy parents until their deaths in a plane crash while they were taking an impromptu business trip, which left him in an orphanage he escaped.
Ms. Kyle, impressed that he had stolen the man’s watch, took pity on the boy and took him in as her own. Since then, Timmy had been trained in the arts of hand-to-hand combat, deception, misdirection, and thievery- and he was good. Almost on par with Selina, in fact. The time had come for Catlad to complete his training with a final test. Tim Drake- the Catlad- was charged with stealing the legendary Bertinelli diamond from Gotham Natural History Museum without tripping the museum’s security.
GNHM was unlike other museums in Gotham because of the fact that it had phenomenal security- designed by the brilliant engineer Lucious Fox himself. Lucius, who paid special attention to guarding the Bertinelli diamond, which was the pride and joy of the GNHM. Luckily, Catlad was smart too. Not the one plus one equals two kind of smart- though he was able to solve the Josephus problem at the age of 9 without help- but the able to trick people into doing things for you kind of smart. Catlad’s intelligence was frankly almost unmatched in Gotham except for say Batman, the Joker, and the Riddler- and while it is unfair to compare apples to oranges, the intelligence of Catlad was not by any means rivaled by Bartholomew ‘Bart’ Allen or Conner ‘Kon’ Kent.
Bart and Kon were amateur thieves and partners in crime new to Gotham City that, like Catlad, just so happened to have their eyes set on the Bertinelli diamond. They had earned a name for themselves in Hub and Star City as “The Fervid Firebolts” and had a perfect record. That is- they’d never been caught. The two earned their name from what they left behind at places they stole from. Everything would be left in perfect condition except for the area near the items they stole, where they burned in an upside-down triangle with a lightning bolt running through it on the floor almost as if they had superman’s laser vision.
It was an ironically perfect name for the pair- Kon, a farm boy from rural Kansas was a football star in his hometown and a chemistry enthusiast who specialized in combustion. Bart, on the other hand, was an ex-track star from Alabama that enjoyed science too- only he focused more on elections and fulminology. The two had met at an NHS science convention and exchanged numbers after hitting it off.
They made their first heist a few months later after they came up with a revolutionary idea for creating an engine that would revolutionize the clean energy field. The only problem was that they couldn’t dig up enough money or obtain any grants to work on their product. Desperate to change the world, the two ran away from home, donned ski masks, and robbed an entire mall together before making their way to Hub City and purchasing a small, one-bedroom apartment. Eventually they started taking riskier jobs like banks and museums for higher profits. Frankly, if they played their cards right, the Bertinelli diamond would be the last heist they’d ever have to pull.
Finally, the Firebolts were ready- they had surveilled the museum for weeks making plans and drawing up diagrams of important security features and figuring out the best time to strike. Only they never anticipated coming face-to-face with Gotham City’s own Catlad.
Tim’s combat boots made a light clacking noise as they connected with the marble floors of the museum’s East wing when he dropped down from the rafters. He strut towards the West wing, careful to keep from setting off any sensors and staying out of view from the museum’s security cameras. Sure, Tim was trying to keep his ego in check because any one misstep could alert the police to his presence, but he was confident. What? He’d traced this route dozens of times both in-person and in his mind so he knew what he was doing- sue him.
Everything was going according to plan until he reached the Ancient Egyptian exhibit that separated him from the hall of jewels. It wasn’t that he made a wrong move, no- it was that the hushed voices around the corner let him know he wasn’t alone.
Quickly peeking to assess the situation, he spied two guys in domino masks. Yeah, that’s right- domino masks. I know money can be hard for thieves, but domino masks? Really? Tim thought to himself. At least try for something that covers more than half of your face.
The two were trying to open a display case with golden trinkets and probably posed no threat to him. Alerting them to his presence would do more harm than good, so Tim crawled up a column of scaffolding placed around an upright sarcophagi and latched onto the safety bar of a second-floor balcony overlooking the exhibit.
Catlad had almost made his way to the other side of the exhibit when one of the boys- a taller one with dark hair- pulled a small hammer out of a backpack as if he were going to shatter the display case. Shoot. Tim had seen this before and even made the mistake once himself. He knew that letting the other two know he was there was dangerous, but it couldn't be more dangerous than the police arriving after the sensor on that case was tripped. Thus, he interfered.
“Amateurs.”
Both boys whipped their heads up in unison towards the source of the voice.
“Don’t do it like that, you idiots. You’re gonna set off the alarms and the cops’ll be here within minutes,” Tim hissed.
The Firebolts were understandably stunned. Here they were in the middle of stealing from the Gotham Natural History Museum being hissed at by a dude dressed head-to-toe in black leather and wearing a cat mask. The shock of being snuck up and caught doing something illegal would have been enough to shut the boys up, but they couldn't ignore that fact that their company looked *good*.
It took a few seconds for one of them to speak up, which they both did at the same time- “Who are you?” and “Well how would you do it?” echoed through the hall.
Tim’s boots clacked a little softer this time when they connected with the carpeted floor of the exhibit stage. “Well first,” he paused as he kneeled down and pried off a panel from the base of the display to reveal a mess of wires. “I’m Catlad,” he continued as he sliced a wire in half with one of the sharp diamonds at the end of his gloves that acted as claws. “And second,” he added as he pressed one side of the case, making it open as he delicately removed a gold necklace. “Like that.”
Tim held up the necklace so the light of the moon that shone through the skylight hit and illuminated it. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue? You gonna take this, or just keep staring?”
The shorter, auburn-haired boy stepped forward and took the necklace while thanking Catlad and slipping it in his bag. After a few moments of quiet, the boy, in a whispered voice, asked, “Catlad… so like, nya?” while putting his hand up to mimic a cat paw. That earned an elbow in the rib from the taller boy.
Catlad replied with a laugh as he put his arms around the two boys’ shoulders. They flinched at the sudden approach and contact but made no other move to stop him. “No. Like nya!” he grunted as he slammed their heads together and left them unconscious on the floor. He would have tied them up, but he doubted they would regain consciousness before he had left the museum and made off with his prize. That’s the reason… yes. Not because he could tell the boys were trying their best and took pity on them because being a criminal is hard work, you know. No- it was definitely because they didn’t pose a threat… Anywho- now for the matter at hand- the Bertinelli diamond. The job was originally meant to be an in-and-out heist that took no longer than thirty minutes, but Tim realized he’d need to do better if he wanted to avoid getting caught by the two boys after they had regained consciousness.
Catlad pranced towards the hall of gems in the next room. The entrance was blocked by shiny metal bars dropped from the ceiling during the night to keep the hall protected.
This was the easier part of the heist. While researching the museum, Tim discovered that instead of bypassing the security system so he could lift the bars- or even having to squeeze through them- he could take advantage of a design flaw and circumvent the gate altogether.
The design flaw aforementioned was actually kind of hysterical: there was an air vent that connected the Ancient Egyptian exhibit and the hall of jewels. Yikes. There weren’t even any motion sensors at either end of the vent- he could just crawl straight through. It was just… *so sad*.
Sliding the grate on the other side back into place, Tim looked up at the hall. Well, it wasn’t really a hall- it was a circular room, which was weird for any building, but especially a museum. Glass display cases lined the walls and featured everything from rubies and sapphires glittering like stars to glow-in-the-dark meteorites. In the middle of all of that was a large, multi-layered podium that doubled as benches and stairs leading up to the top. At the top, there was a tall circular display case that held one of the most beautiful stones Tim had ever seen. He had already seen it numerous times while he was staking out the museum and making note of security measures, but it seemed even prettier under the moonlight that shone through the skylight. Next to the case, of course, was a sign labeled ‘Bertinelli Diamond,’ which was a good thing because otherwise you’d totally never know it was a diamond. (Note sarcasm). It was quite peaceful, actually. Too bad Catlad was about to make his next steal.
Tim tugged at the right ear of his cowl, which contained a small transmitter device already programmed to knock out the security cameras in whatever room he was in. His black costume would make it harder to see him on camera, but he didn’t want to take any chances. Now, there's something people don't tell you about museums in Gotham and, frankly, most museums for that matter. They lack the laser grids portrayed in movies. Catlad didn’t have to worry about throwing flour to reveal a maze of lasers he would have to expertly maneuver through in order to avoid setting off alarms. What this mesum did have, though, were proximity sensors that sent signals directly to GCPD if someone got within three feet of any display case in the hall of gems. Those and glass shatter sensors, which meant Catlad couldn't just walk up to the display case and break it, but not doing that was like- normal thievery principles, so he would be fine. Luckily, Catlad had just the appliance to- he stopped thinking as he heard the vent grate behind him slide open. Whipping around, Catlad was again face-to-face with the Firebolts. This was a very unexpected development because Tim had just rendered them unconscious less than a minute ago. What were their heads made of, concrete?
They started running towards Catlad as if to tackle him, but he slid to the side before pouncing on the taller one and scratching him. That was it- he’d had enough of these two and definitely didn’t need them ruining his mission for Selina. He made his way to the shorter one, who tripped and fell on his back and sent the smaller metal hammer from before flying out of his backpack and across the floor. The boy got up to lunge at Tim, so he scratched that one too.
Oh- a fact only known by Catlad and Catwoman’s enemies is that they coat their claws in a fast-acting neurotoxin, meaning that whenever they draw blood, the scratch victims are rendered immobilized below the neck within seconds. As the boys attempted to attack him from each side, they got slower with each step they took toward Catlad until they were finally frozen in place.
Answering their questions for them, Tim explained, “Neurotoxin. You’re both frozen from the neck down for about thirty minutes or until I give you the antidote,” as he stepped towards both of the boys and took both of their masks off in one single motion. Yeah, they tried to wiggle their necks, but they were defenseless without their arms or legs.
Tim took a step back as he breathed out because, wow. The taller boy had a chiseled jawline that could probably cut through the Bertinelli diamond itself and the shorter one had dishy amber eyes that looked like they belonged on display with one of the citrine or topaz gem stones on display around them.
“Alright, so we’ve established that you’re a dick, you know what our faces look like, and were frozen for an amount of time,” Bart reviled. “What now?”
Tim, frankly taken aback by the directness of the smaller one because he had written him off as a softie without a spine, decided to boop his little freckled nose.
“Okay, fine,” Catlad replied. “I feel kind of bad for you two. So, whichever one of you answers my questions to my satisfaction, their mobility back they shall earn. Let’s start with you, shorty.”
“I’m taller than you,” was Bart’s response.
“Let’s see… quick, what is the capital of Madagascar?”
“Uh…”
“Incorrect, the answer is Antananariva.”
“YOU DIDN’T EVEN GIVE ME A CHANCE TO ANSWER THE QUES-”
Catlad cut him off. “You, slick, truth or dare?”
Kon, without missing a beat, said “Truth.”
“Okay, what’s your credit card number?”
“I mean dare.”
“Tell me your credit card number.”
Kon frowned. “I don’t like this game.”
Tim smirked. “You’re both handsome, but not especially bright,” he said as he bent over to pick up the small metal hammer that had fallen out of Bart’s backpack before walking up the steps towards the Bertinelli diamond. “A shame.” Locking eyes with the Firebolts, Catlad smashed the display case.
This earned a “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” and “ARE YOU CRAZY?” from Bart and Kon, respectively.
Catlad laughed as he picked up the Bertinelli diamond and put it into a pouch on his belt. “Relax, the sensors were already tripped when I walked within three feet of the case. The cops will be here within a few minutes- have fun in jail.” He walked back over to the boys, who were both in stunned silence over what was happening. “Sorry boys,” Tim leaned over to kiss Bart on the nose before continuing. “You’re both super cute, but,” he paused to kiss Kon on the cheek and pulled out a cat ear shaped grappling gun from his belt before shooting it up. “It’s just business.”
The Firebolts began to scream at him, curses and names filled the air and Bart looked as if he were about to cry, but Catlad didn’t listen. He just laughed and zipped up to a rafter and opened the one-way skylight on the ceiling and crawled up
Once Tim was up on the roof, he found Selina standing with her hands on her hips. Shit. Shitfuck, Tim, you’re so fucking bad. How could you fail this. Couldn’t you just do one thing correctly this one ti- his thoughts were cut off by Catwoman.
“So... you didn’t get out without tripping the alarms, so I should fail you,” Selina spoke. “But Kit-Kat, I’m giving you bonus points because that was so fun to watch- I mean damn that was purrfect. I should have brought popcorn,” she laughed.
Tim ducked his head and smiled.
“Well we haven't got all night kiddo,” she said as she patted Tim on the head. “Let’s go.”
Catlad nodded before leaping to the roof of a neighboring building with Catwoman on his tail. For all the trouble, it was an okay night.
For my internet father, @unknownunseenunheard, who introduced me to TimKonBart around this time last year. Love you Da! I also wanted to thank my siblings @absolute-0zero and @queerbutstillhere, and my kiddo @dysfunctionalbatfam for helping organize this event. Love you guys too :)
Note that there aren't actually any balloons involved in this so the title was a lie, but titles are hard so shush. I didn't edit it, so please excuse formatting, spelling, and grammatical errors. No beta we die like Jason Todd and Wally West uwu
**Find it on AO3 here:** (X)
When Bart first came out, his biggest fear was getting judged for being gay. If not that, then for being polyamorous. Homosexuality was welcomed, but even in the 30th century, when he came from, polygamy still wasn’t fully accepted. Bart assumed he wouldn’t be fully accepted, but no. His biggest obstacle was that nobody actually knew what polyamory was. Not even poor Max, who Bart had to explain the concept to about seventy times before he finally got it. Max, who was originally skeptical, but thankfully supportive in the end of Bart’s sexuality. Max, who raised him. He loved Max so much. The only people that compared to Max, in fact, were Meloni, Cassie, Tim, and Kon.
Tim and Kon. His lovely boyfriends. Those two little adorable fraggers. Their relationship, like most poly ones, started out... slowly. When he first asked out Kon, he happily agreed. Crash! This might be easier than he thought! Only later did he learn that Kon had no idea what polyamorous meant... having heard it twice in the song ‘Cult of Dionysus,’ he assumed it was a synonym for ‘funky.’ Funky ... Kon said he wanted to be funky with Bart… Yeah, Kon was a disaster.
Tim was a completely different story. He actually did know what polygamy was, and even supported it. The problem, though, was that when he asked, Tim didn’t answer right away. Bart was facing away because he didn’t have the courage to ask Tim to his face. He was quiet for a few minutes, which to a speedster, felt like a lifetime. Bart began to wonder if he made a mistake- that he misread Tim. Or maybe Tim hadn’t heard him at all. Either way, he felt moded as hell.
When Bart turned around to ask again, he could see Tim’s gears turning. He had definitely heard. Bart opened his mouth to apologize, but Tim cut him off to explain that he would love to, but Batman would never allow it.
Nevertheless, and after a LOT of convincing, promises to, and shovel talk from various members of the Wayne and Kent families, he began to date both Tim and Kon at the same time- though Bart didn’t think he’d ever not be scared by Bruce’s disapproving glares.
Another thing about his boyfriends was that they were both incredibly thoughtful. It was the morning of his birthday, and being a notoriously light sleeper, Bart knew something was off before he even opened his eyes. He couldn’t explain it, but he felt a presence and knew he was being watched. He immediately ruled out the possibility of it being Max or Wally because he expressed the only things he wanted for his birthday were a one, a superspeed puppy like Krypto that he could run with, and two, to be allowed the pleasure of sleeping in and not having to worry about his chores for the day. He took a quick breath before his eyes darted open, and sure enough, he wasn’t alone.
Bart let out a small shriek when he saw Kon floating in the air next to his bed at eye-level no more than two feet away.
“Happy birthday gorgeous,” Kon whispered.
His muscles instantly relaxed. Tim and Kon climbing through his window in the middle of the night on weekends wasn’t a tremendously common occurrence, but it happened enough that Bart wasn’t surprised. It took him a few seconds to register what the half-Kryptonian actually said. Oh God, Kon didn’t do anything stupid, did he? Bart stretched before sitting up in bed and rubbing his eyes. After staring into the distance for a few seconds, he looked over to Kon.
“Morning,” he paused. “Tell me you didn’t do anything too drastic please.”
Kon only smiled and told Bart to get dressed and meet him at Wayne Manor whenever he felt ready before sliding out the window.
About thirty minutes later, Bart jogged through the front gate of the manor only to see… Damian? The gremlin child was staring straight at Bart and speaking into a walkie-walkie from an upstairs window. Bart waved but the younger boy just turned around.
When he rang the doorbell, he was greeted and wished a happy birthday by Alfred, and to his surprise, Dick, Cassandra, and Bruce as well. Alfred informed him that Tim and Kon were awaiting his arrival in the botanical gardens out back. The very same botanical gardens that Bart considered one of his favorite places because of how pretty it was. Bruce was quite the collector of exotic flowers and trees.
As he neared the botanical gardens, he heard a sound that made his heart sing. Under a willow tree, Tim was laughing at something Kon said. They were both sitting on a red and white checkered picnic blanket. In the middle of the blanket sat several bags of what looked to be Big Belly Burger that were set next to some plates, napkins, and silverware. Tim was leaning back on his hands with his back turned to Bart and Kon lie directly across from him with a smile on his face.
“Timmyyy,” Bart cried as he dove to hug Tim from behind.
The sudden attack startled Tim and caused him to noticeably jump, which earned a laugh from both Bart and Kon.
“Hey, handsome. Happy birthday,” Tim chuckled before leaning back to kiss Bart’s forehead.
Bart hugged Tim and planted a kiss on his hand then crawled around to give Kon a kiss on the cheek before sitting down cross-legged on the blanket with his back against the trunk of the willow.
“So. What’s all of this?”
Tim explained that after a lot of thought, he and Kon settled on ordering Bart’s favorite sandwiches from Big Belly Burger and buying an assortment of cupcakes from the bakery downtown.
“We would have MADE you the cupcakes, but we had absolutely no idea what we were doing,” Kon beamed.
“Well I think we made up for that,” Tim continued. “The bakery has good ratings… but anyways, instead of having Alfred make some fancy bubbly fruit water because… well we’re fruity and it’s good… Kon reminded me that your favorite drink is chocolate milk so-“
Bart cut him off with an “OHMYGOD YOU GOT ME CHOCCY MILK?!”
It turns out the food and the blessing of being in Tim and Kon’s presence weren’t even the tips of the iceberg. No- they decided that Bart deserved gifts as well- a sentiment that made his heart melt. There were two gifts- one was a set of custom-made cookie cutters shaped like the signature Flashfam lighting bolt from Tim, which was sick. A little-known fact about Bart- he actually loves to bake._ I’m definitely going to teach these boys to bake._ The other gift was a stack of comic books (to appease Bart’s inner nerd) from Kon that Bart could read out loud while the three of them snuggled.
Apparently there was going to be something else but Tim’s hand shot out to cover Kon’s mouth before he could finish his sentence and refused to tell Bart anything else.
Bart would never know, but that thing was a puppy. Kon almost bought a puppy, but Tim luckily called him in time to prevent that disaster.
“Yeah… okay,” Kon said before hanging up with what was probably the most dejected look on his face that he had ever made.
Before Bart could even open his mouth to thank them, Kon, without hesitation, chimed in: “It’s your birthday, but we’re the ones that should be celebrating the most. Our favorite person in the universe was born on this day.”
“Yeah,” Tim nodded. “Though one day a year isn’t enough to celebrate someone as special as you.”
Bart couldn’t help but cry a little bit. Sure things were a bit difficult sometimes. Sure Kon and Bart would argue over whether sushi is good or not. Sure Tim and Bart would argue about who got to sleep in the middle at sleepovers. Sure they’d often lecture each other about putting themselves in unnecessary danger. Still, Bart was dating his two best friends, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Prompt Idea: Dick rolling around after Wally in a human pretzel. Like he’d totally put his feet behind his head and walk on his hands.
Though, I feel like it could eventually backfire and Wally would become desensitized and just be like “that’s hot” one day and Dick would get so flustered that he gets stuck
Bart had seen Tim sad before. He had seen him in mourning. Hell, he’d even seen Tim cry. But nothing he’d experienced in his entire life as either Tim’s best friend or as Impulse could have prepared him for the harrowing sight before him when he opened the door to his apartment. Tim had a black Sherpa blanket wrapped around his shoulders, his body sunken to the ground and his forehead to the floor. The overhead lights were out and the windows’ blinding curtains were drawn, leaving the room in complete darkness. If not for his ability provided by the Speedforce to see in the dark, Bart would have been oblivious to the heap positioned in the middle of his living room if not for the sounds it gave. Bart heard the sorrowful wails that escaped the raven-haired boy’s lips between sobs. Tim was in agony.
Bart’s breath hitched as his stomach dropped. His chest felt hollow. Legs numb, his knees on the verge of buckling. In the twelve years he had known Tim, he had never seen anything like this.
On a regular day, Bart would have swaggered up to Tim while using his hands to imitate a windshield wiper. He'd tease: "Eee err ee err. Tim Drake-Wayne? Crying? That can't be possible. Who are you, and what've you done with Tim?"
This wasn't a regular day.
Quickly setting down the groceries he secured, Bart shut the door, not bothering to turn on the lights as the inky void enveloped him. He knew Tim, which meant he knew Tim gathered more comfort from the shadows than the light, and that he'd be horrified at the prospect of being seen in his current state.
Bart was fast, but he was given no time to open his mouth after kneeling next to Tim before being pounced on and knocked off-balance. Tim clung desperately to Bart, letting a muffled sob into his shoulder.
"I-Its its Co-Conner," he blubbered as if he could read Bart's thoughts.
Bart's mind started racing faster than Wally had ever run. Conner? What about him? Was he okay? Was he-
Prompt Idea: Tim likes to patrol in Manchester and says that he “just likes helping people,” but the real reason he enjoys it is because he has a crush on Bart.
Konsider: President Lex Luthor’s son, Connor, can’t have a nice date with the boy he met at private school because his body guards are nosy. Little do they know, said boy from school is a master at avoiding body guards due to his practice from doing so as a child heir that also had body guards
Considering that canon doesn’t exist and Bruce probably dies before Alfred, how would would Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, Cass, and Duke react to Alfred’s death? How would they grieve? Would they keep composure around eachother and during the funeral only to completely crumble when they’re alone? Would they rely on each other for support? What coping mechanisms would they use? Who would actually attend the funeral and who would make preparations? Who would fail to show up? Who would attend from outside of the family? Who would the manor and the cave go to? Discuss. :)
TimKon oneshot where Kon meets Tim because they're both out shoveling snow and Kon sees Tim fall into a snowbank so he goes to help him. Maybe it's because he's cold, or maybe it's because he's sleep deprived, but Tim tells Kon he has the prettiest eyes and asks him if he's dead and if Kon is an angel.
Imagine... Little Jason Todd is bored (because Bruce is out at a gala) so he plays dressup in Bruce's clothes due to the fact that he looks up to Bruce and wants to be like him. He’s feeling himself until somehow gets a really expensive suit dirty because he spills juice on it. So he runs crying to Alfred because he doesn't want to get in trouble and he doesn’t know how to clean it (or frankly, how to do laundry in general) because there are no tags or markings. Alfred laughs and assures Jason that it’s okay because he has secretly sewn a little pattern on the inside of every piece of clothing that belongs to Bruce, Dick, and Jason and has a color coded system for what needs to be cleaned in what way because young Bruce and Dick used to do the same thing all the time. In addition to learning his family members are all saps, Jason also learns how to do laundry.
Imagine... Bruce makes Tim stay home from a convention or something the whole family really wanted to go to because he got chickenpox at school. Bruce already got it when he was little, Dick got it during his time with the circus, Jason got it on the streets when he was little, Damian and Cass got it as part of a league initiation process, and Duke (can't get it because of weird mixing with his metahuman DNA. So, of course, angy Tim does what any bored child would do and goes to mope and play minecraft on the batcomputer with a little account that Bruce made for him. Everything is fine and dandy until he hits a time limit imposed by Bruce. He can't figure out the master password for parental controls so he has to convince Alfred to give it to him. Alfred is stubborn at first, but eventually relents. Eventually, when the family returns to the manor, Bruce realizes what happened. He then goes to question Alfred like ?!?! You did what??? The thing is, when Bruce finally finds Alfred, he’s putting things away in a linen closet outside of Tim's room. In response to Bruce, Alfred quietly cracks open the door to reveal that Tim is sleeping with a smile as to communicate "oh he's so cute and happy, just let him have this one" and Bruce is like hmph fine. So Alfred is just standing there like UwU I would die for you master Tim.
