Untitled

tim knew, vaguely, that this was probably a bad idea. similarly to how he knew stalking the batman and robin up on the roofs of gotham was a bad idea - it’s probably (definitely) illegal, could possibly lead to injury, and gives him a heady, buzzing rush of adrenaline through his body, making his fingers tingle and his teeth ache. he ignored it all with ease, and simply kept crouching low right behind bernard’s own hunched form.

they had been hanging out at berns’ house on one of those nights where bern’s parents were gone on a weeks long trip and the boy was lonely enough to call up his friend- tim, who answers every time. he might be busy with robin, but usually berns calls on nights where he’s not patrolling, or early enough in the evening that he doesn’t have to worry about patrol for hours to come. this time, it was both, so tim had been comfortable with coming over with a night bag.

they’ll do homework together (with some light nudging from tim to get berns going - the boy is smart enough for the work, he just hates doing it. which tim feels very hard, considering the work is boring enough to deter him from finishing it), play games together, read together (tim, with textbooks he’s studying for robin or novels that jason had left behind in the manor’s library with notes or markers, and bernard with comics or books his mom had recommended to him once upon a time). sometimes they’ll just sit quietly in each other’s company, with berns breaking the silence to ramble about one thing or another, and tim simply listening.

tim’s always been good at listening, and it’s just so easy to listen to bernard’s outlandish theories and ranting opinions about the state of gotham or the world. the blonde always has so much to say, loud and opinionated and crazed with intellect that’s made comical by how far off the mark he can be at times. if all tim did all day was listen to berns ramble about batman being a shadow government plant with a mission to create a clone robin army, furiously connecting the dots with red string and bright markers, his hazel eyes glinting with mania as a grin terrifying enough to scare the joker splits his lips, well then- tim wouldn’t be opposed. no, not at all.

but in any case, they were hanging, and berns was doing research with his laptop in his lap, fingers flying across the keys as he laid on his bed, and tim had been hanging off the side of said bed playing with one of bernard’s fidget cubes. berns had stopped typing all of a sudden, seemingly thinking of something for a long few, drawn out minutes, when tim finally pipes up and asks him what’s wrong. he sits up so he can look at his friend, who’s expression was twisted in thought.

slowly, bernard’s expression had lit up with something like realization, something like joy and mischief, and tim had sighed in resignation, already knowing that bern was going to suggest something crazy and tim would probably say yes.

berns had looked him in the eye, his stare a bright, piercing thing that made dread drop through his stomach, and excitement pump through his bloodstream. he had smiled, and asked tim if he wanted to break into an abandoned facility to explore a new theory, and tim had only hesitated for half a second- barely any time at all, really- before saying yes, like he knew he would.

and here they were, creeping along the bushes just outside of the withering fence that surrounded the abandoned complex. it was a dilapidated building that was actually quite big for simply being an “old research space”, and tim wouldn’t be shocked if they came across remnants of an old rogue plot or the remains of breakthrough research that had been cut short by some corrupt company or other. it was gotham, this shit happened all the time.

he was concerned that it could house some unsavories, but he just vowed to himself that he would keep berns as safe as he could, and he figured they’d just turn and run at the first sign of trouble anyway.

they climb over the fence, it being made easier by how frail it was from age and disuse. they drop down, readjusting their bags, and walk around to a side entrance that creaks a bit when they pull it open, the door rusted and shaky. they step inside, and berns looks around with hungry, sharp eyes, picking apart the empty, broken down space, many different hallways stretching from the main lobby, and a second floor made immediately obvious as they look up at the walkway connected from the main stairs. it’s all metal walls and wooden furniture, everything dusty and dark- only a few rays of gray light streaming through the skylight. that’s gotham for you.

they decide to meander through the halls, quietly calling to each other when they separate for more than a few minutes. berns has his journal out, jotting down a few things as they walk about. they go up the stairs eventually, having found nothing of note on the first floor, and it’s here where they find something a bit more interesting.

empty, though still half-stocked, labs. quite a few of them, too. rows of stations, clear beakers tipped over or sitting in trays, microscopes, shelves with some leftover chemicals, refrigerators with even more empty trays and nothing else. bernard still explores every lab with renewed interest and a pep to his step, scribbling furiously in his notebook and noting the chemicals he knows off first glance, taking pictures of what he thinks should be documented as well. tim just follows behind him, making note to return here later as robin and search more thoroughly for anything sinister- maybe even empty out the chemicals so they won’t be stolen and used.

they bump shoulders as berns says some of his observations out loud, with tim questioning him on some things and nodding with a fondly exasperated smile at others. “we haven’t even found anything, are you sure this is the home to a new sighting of cryptids? maybe someone was just high when they posted that,” tim is saying with a teasing smirk, and berns loudly talks over him, saying that tim just wants to see him fail and he has no faith whatsoever in bernard’s gut. and bernard’s gut is saying that something is here so we will keep exploring, mister drake-wayne, unless you have somewhere to be?

tim just holds his hands up, grinning at berns’ mock irritation, who huffs loudly and moves on to the next room. they bicker and shove each other, smelling the safe chemicals and steering clear of the more volatile ones that have separated over the years, covering up some that shouldn’t still be exposed to open air with their gothamite gas masks on. they discuss curiously about the pros and cons of pranking their chemistry teacher with something innocuous enough to not mess with any chemicals and materials, but significant enough that he leaves the room so they can start their own separate experiments.

it’s as they’re talking that they enter the last room, and tim is the first to pause as he realizes this one is a bit different. there’s another skylight in here, and it looks close to an office with lab stations shoved inside of it rather than an actual lab. the floor is carpeted which- that’s a solid no with chemicals in the room- much more stocked shelves than the other labs, the lab stations are smaller but they take up either side of the room, the middle being open under the skylight and leading up to the big desk pressed up against the floor to ceiling window that makes up the back wall. tim and berns slowly look around, separating to check out opposite sides, careful not to mess with anything- their previous conversation forgotten.

tim feels itchy with- not exactly dread, but something close, like he can tell there’s something off about this room and it’s disconcerting. like he can feel that something isn’t right. he purses his lips as he comes to a stop, turning to where berns is snooping at the desk.

“bern, i think we should leave. something is wrong,” he says, voice calm and quiet, but the nerves still gripping his throat tight. berns doesn’t seem to hear him, too distracted.

a distant crack and rumble makes tim snap his eyes up to the skylight, where he can see gotham’s usual gray clouds getting darker with a storm. lightning briefly flashes right above the little window, and tim can feel his heart start to race again as he backs up towards the door.

“bernard, i’m serious. we’ve gotta get out of here,” tim calls, much louder this time with his urgency. bernard waves his hand vaguely in tim’s direction, eyes glued to papers that he’s gotten out of the desk as he walks around it, coming to stand closer to the skylight. he’s awash in grays and silvers, and tim can see his feverish stare only become more manic with information.

“just a sec, timmy! i think i’ve found something- this place was going to be an extension of a lab outsourced from a different city- i can’t tell which city, the font is so smudged from age- and they were in the middle of building something big when they got shut down by some mystery corporation,” berns rants, his mouth moving a mile a minute as his eyes greedily eat up what he’s reading from the pages.

tim’s lips twist as his eyes narrow, his teeth setting on edge as he hears thunder rumble again, sounding closer than before. and it’s then, as his eyes sweep one more time over the office, that he realizes what had made him start to itch. this space isn’t as dusty as the other labs. it looks as though someone has been here recently. and they had been up to something, with all the updated lab stations and shiny-looking chemicals.

“yeah that’s great, berns, but i really think we should go-“

“holy shit!” bern exclaims, cutting tim off and almost dropping the papers in his hands as he accidentally bumps into something on the side of the desk and makes a panel in the floor open up, something shooting out of the newly-opened space. tim’s blood thunders in his ears as he takes a quick step forward, almost flying forward with his robin-reflexes before he forces himself to stop.

what had come out of the hole was a pole that unfolds to show something not at all dissimilar from bernard’s own conspiracy board. it’s at least five feet across and seven feet tall, with pictures and newspaper clippings and ripped out textbook pages and medical files all connected with red yarn, key words and faces circled in black marker pen. tim stares, wide eyed, and berns has not fared any better, what with his jaw dropped to the floor.

berns takes a step closer to the board, his full hands reaching out with a marveling expression brightening up his face, no doubt his little conspiracy theorist heart feeling all warm and fuzzy at the sight of this, but tim just feels goosebumps break out over his arms as he suppresses a shiver.

“bernard, i’m not joking anymore! please, let’s just go. someone was here, and that board is clearly their secret evil plot, or something. we can notify the police or the bats or someone, but only once we’re gone!” tim shouts, one foot halfway out the door. berns seems to snap out of the frenzy he’s been in since they had entered the room, and he looks over at tim with wide eyes. whatever he sees makes him settle, and he nods as he swallows, rearranging his bag so it’s in front of him so he can shove as many papers into it as he can, jogging over to tim all the while.

tim feels a little knot of tension undo in his chest, relieved that his friend is finally listening. he reaches a hand out right as berns crosses under the skylight, and-

that moment there, is when everything changes.

the world explodes in a burst of bright, searing white light, his ear drums imploding and the breath knocking out of his lungs as he’s thrown back, completely out of the room and slamming into the railing of the walkway, bending the metal under the force of his weight.

pain explodes in his spine from the impact, and a ragged cry squeezes out of his throat as he slides to the ground, his vision tunneling into black. he’s probably only unconscious for a few seconds at most when he coughs awake, rapidly blinking as he attempts to orient himself.

his whole body aches and throbs as he forces himself to sit up, wind brushing through his hair and stinging at his eyes, the air smelling of burnt chemicals and smoggy rain. he coughs again as he tries to stand, his brain whirling and buzzing as he tries to understand what just happened.

“oh fuck- bernard-!” he chokes out as he suddenly remembers, stumbling over broken pieces of debris and glass as he runs back into the room, wildly looking around the place - which is significantly more disorganized than before the- what the hell even happened?- with the desk blown back, the skylight broken and streaming in rain and wind, the lab stations toppled over or disarrayed, the floor covered in more glass and broken things - before landing on bernard’s figure. his pulse ratchets up as his heart stutters through several beats at the sight of his best friend.

he had been thrown into one of the shelves lined up next to the lab stations, chemicals all over the floor and soaking into bernard’s still body. he was pale and bleeding, and as tim ran over to him, he could smell- ozone?

“bernard! oh my god, berns, oh god, oh fuck-” tim shouts, fear making his hands shake as he grabs his best friend and hauls him into his arms. his fingers sting from a static shock as he holds him, but he barely even registers it before he’s running out of the room. he had checked for a pulse and almost took his hand away with a hiss at the thundering pace of his friend’s heart. it was almost beating too fast to be possible- that couldn’t be healthy on top of everything else, he needed to get berns help immediately.

he flies through the halls and down the stairs, cursing in frustration at the obstacle the fence made before just throwing berns onto his back as securely as he could, and climbing painstakingly slow so he doesn’t jostle berns off of him- especially since his friend wasn’t conscious to hold onto him.

he runs through the gotham, trying to take back alleys and shortcuts that he knew were safe so as to avoid getting into any trouble berns couldn’t afford. he’s running so fast and so far his chest is heaving with it - especially with the wind and rain not making it any easier - but if not for missions, if not for defeating rogues and saving the city and saving the world, what use is his robin training than for this?

he makes it to leslie’s clinic with single minded determination, drenched to the bone from the rain, his sheer stubbornness holding off the cold and preventing him from slipping in his non slip-proof sneakers. truthfully, he hadn’t even noticed any of it. all he was chanting in his mind was leslie’s clinic, and bernard. bernard, who was so warm he was bordering on uncomfortably hot, burning through tim’s thin shirt and branding his skin with something tim couldn’t even hope to name.

bernard, who he cradles in his arms again like something so so utterly precious, like the only precious thing in the world. like someone tim is deathly afraid to lose. especially to something like this - something so far out of his control it almost circles right back around to being funny. bernard, who he holds out to leslie when she comes out of her office at the sound of the door jingling with tim’s hasty entrance. bernard, who looks so deathly pale in the low, inoffensive light of leslie’s clinic as leslie gracefully takes him into her arms - not one to startle easily, even from things like this - that he practically looks already dead.

bernard, who disappears behind the door to where he can hopefully be treated, to where tim can’t follow.

tim, who slides to the floor as light as a feather without bernard’s weight to hold him steady, keep him standing and in place. tim, who distantly feels the tears slide down his pink cheeks, and the warmth seeping back into the limbs that hadn’t been holding bernard close.

tim, who doesn’t even realize when his brother shows up, concerned and crouching down in front of him.

oh, tim thinks. leslie had called dick as soon as she saw tim frantic and terrified. because even when tim is bleeding out and delirious and idly asks if he’s going to die tonight, he’s never one to be truly, utterly beside himself with terror. he can’t even imagine how horrified and scared he must’ve looked to freak leslie out enough for her to call one of his brothers right then and there.

it doesn’t matter, anyway. nothing matters except bernard. he can’t even hear dick’s voice, in this congealed, shadowed place he’s in, where his heart had stopped when bernard’s did. where the only image he can think of, is the sight of berns’ limp body laid across a shelf.

and it’s in this strange sort of limbo, that his world lights up again for a second time. for one terrifying second, tim is back in that doorway, and the room is going to explode and bernard is going to get hurt, and he can’t reach him in time-

but then he looks up.

and it’s bernard, lit up in beautiful blues and whites and golds. the world is a slow thing, turning on its axis as if through molasses. berns is burning, standing in place, lit up with sparking lightning, his eyes bright and electrified. he looks down at tim with all the speed and wonder of the warped cosmos, his hair moving as if underwater. he grins, so wide and mischievous, his teeth crackling with something like electrons and thunder.

“hi timmy,” he says, using that dreaded nickname, and his voice rumbles and carries in this- strange space, where everyone and everything is lagging behind and it’s just him and tim. tim reaches a hand out, automatically, unthinkingly. he just- all he wants is bernard, alive and awake beneath his fingertips.

bernard reads his mind, and grabs his hand.

tim gasps as he feels his brain light up, warmth and sparking adrenaline flooding through him as he’s pulled to his feet. he’s dizzy with lightning crashing in his chest, with bernard’s swirling stare, so full of energy and emotion. bern pulls him close, right into his chest, and tim is surrounded with golden vibrations and violet static, berns’ high laugh making his mind fizz with something like relief, and joy, and something more.

“bernard,” tim breathes, holding onto his friend with a death grip because he simply can’t do anything else. berns laughs again, and squeezes him tight.

“yeah, timmy. wanna go for a run?”

and oh. that’s what this is. of course. tim- really should’ve seen it, considering he’s robin, and all that. but in his defense- he was scared.

it doesn’t matter now.

he just grins, high and light for the first time in years.

“i’ve been waiting all my life for you to ask,” tim says, grinning but he’s so grave, so serious, he means it, really. he’s been waiting for bernard his whole life.

bernard holds him impossibly closer, lightning racing over his arms and crackling between their faces that are only inches apart. he’s grinning so hard tim is afraid it’ll get stuck like that.

“drama queen,” he whispers, and then he’s running, and well. tim is a lot of things.

it all came to a head when both their families accepted that invite.

tim and bernard had not been friends long, but that didn’t stop them from becoming fast and close friends in that short time frame. they had met at a stuffy charity Christmas gala, where the drakes and the dowds had been given a chance to make connections, and show themselves as more than just your run of the mill, dime a dozen rich people found all throughout gotham.

and apparently it worked, because only two months after said gala - two months into bernard and tim’s best friendship - the drakes and the dowds had been invited - alongside a few other rich people and celebrities - to come aboard the queen’s yacht for a months long trip across the ocean. it was prime time for the drakes and the dowds to make an even more name for themselves, and to form extra connections - especially with people outside of gotham, such as star city’s very own queen family.

they had said yes without hesitation, and when jack and janet drake had arrived at the port with their son in tow, tim had immediately looked around at the small crowd of people waiting to board the boat, looking for that bright spot of blonde hair that he knew to be his best friend.

“tim!” bernard dowd had called out to him from just outside the crowd, smiling widely as he ran out from between his parents and threw his arms around tim. bill and carol dowd quickly sped walked over to the drakes, looking apologetically at them as bernard’s father grabbed him from his and tim’s hug and wrangled the boy to his side.

“oh i’m so sorry mr. and mrs. drake-” mrs. dowd starts to say, fretting and ashamed, but is cut off from mrs. drake’s shaking head.

“don’t even worry about it too much, dear, you’ll get grey hairs. your boy is just fine making friends with ours if he wants. tim? do you want to go play with bernard if it’s alright with his parents?” janet asks, looking down at tim with raised brows and narrowed pupils, though from any other perspective she would seem patient and questioning.

to tim, she just looked three seconds away from pulling on his ear and telling him scoldingly that he would play nice, just like she had before they came here. he wouldn’t want to embarrass them and their family’s reputation, now would he?

tim just nods, looking over at bernard with a small smile. “yes, mom.”

mrs. dowd looks relieved, and she squeezes bernard’s shoulder as mr. dowd lets go of his death grip on the boy. “alright, go and play with tim now, and don’t go too far, okay?” she says, squeezing him again, this time hard enough to hurt, before letting him go. bernard nods as obediently as tim had, but when he looks over at his friend, tim is already looking at him with a grin in his expressive, sharp blue eyes. tim steps forward and grabs his wrist, before tugging him along as they run off from their parents.

they mostly just crouch down by the water at the edge of the port, talking and bumping shoulders, before their parents call for them as everyone boards the yacht.

the yacht is huge, big enough to house the small crowd taking residence in it and able to hold hundreds more than that. the dowds and the drakes, seeing how well their boys get along, decide to rent rooms near each other, unlike the other guests. they shake hands with the owners of the boat, young socialite playboy oliver queen and his father, and then everyone goes their separate ways for the night.

for the next few weeks, this is how things go- tim and bernard run down the halls where no one is there to seem them and they’ll be expected to act as the respectable kids of their wealthy parents, and they’ll hang around in empty rooms or go up to the top deck and relish in the sea spray and sunshine, sitting close and grinning widely at each other. there are big dinners where everyone gathers to have pleasant small talk, or to talk business, while being served from the big buffets full of delicious, extravagant food fit for kings.

they’ll spend their days looking out at the ocean and making negotiations, with the dowds and the drakes occasionally checking up on their kids and being sufficiently satisfied seeing the boys messing around in their rooms or on the decks. a couple other people have kids, and when tim and bernard have to be civil and interact with them because their parents tell them to, they do, with the occasional side eye to each other that’s mostly a mix of i’m bored and this food is so good omg and want to count how many cartwheels we can do later? because while they can make friends while their parents are watching and judging, once it’s all over and it’s midnight and the stars are out and the ocean is pitch black, it’s just tim and bernard looking out over it all, the only friends in the world.

their hands find each other while their feet hang over the edge of the deck, pressed against the railing, fingers interlacing as they feel the breeze saltily brush over their cheeks, and they look at each other with soft grins in the moonlight, and they know they’ll be best friends forever.

they had no idea their point would be proven soon enough.

the trip is almost over by now, it having been months of the adults having adult conversations and the kids running off to do their own thing, tim and bernard never far from each other - it was just so easy for them. they both were so naturally smart that it felt as though they could talk about anything for hours, questioning each other and adding on their own theories, bernard’s hazel eyes lit up with the endless possibilities and tim’s sharp ice blues visibly picking it all apart.

then, the shaking starts.

at first, tim and bernard look at each other questioningly, silently asking if they both felt that, when it starts again, and this time, it doesn’t stop. the rumbling only gets worse and worse, and tim and bernard scramble to get off the deck to go and find their parents, only to scream in terror as the laminated wood under their feet starts to crack and tilt. they grab onto each other and sprint for the door leading back into the rest of the yacht, stumbling inside as the boat rocks violently and continues tilting dangerously to one side, making the boys hold onto walls and doors as they pass by them, and each other even tighter.

it all happens so fast, practically passing in a blur for tim, hearing people distantly scream and seeing a couple more people run past them, terrified out of their lives and screeching their heads off saying the boat is sinking! we’re all going to die!

well. that’s reassuring, isn’t it? tim barely has time to think of that sarcastic, slightly hysterical thought before he and bernard stumble and roll through the halls as the boat groans so loud their ears could bleed, tilting and rocking with water rushing up fast.

the minutes are ticking by too fast for tim to keep up with as he and bernard desperately try to stand and at least make it to where anybody else could be making a plan to escape. life rafts, float vests, anything at all. tim doesn’t really know what to do in the case of a boat sinking - because when does anybody ever outside of fishermen have to worry about that? nothing like getting into a car or on a plane - and it’s making his chest squeeze with panic. when he looks over at berns, he can see the same thing on the blonde’s face, his eyes and mouth squeezed tight with his pupils blown from fear.

trudging through the rapidly rising seawater and gripping onto each other’s hands so tightly they’ve probably bruised each other by now, they finally make it to a hallway where oliver queen and his father are seen, screaming at each other. just past them and down the hall, tim and bernard both sigh in relief as they see their parents. both the drakes and the dowds look a little worse for wear - janet appears to be bleeding from her head - but otherwise fine, and that’s enough to settle the boys at least a little.

“mom! dad!” tim shouts, bernard doing the same just after him as they try to run down the hallway.

the drakes and the dowds snap their heads over at the sound of their boys’ shouts, and they shout back, also clamoring over each other so they can run to their boys.

oliver queen and his father also whip their heads over to see the little boys, and tim spies oliver’s face scrunch up in uncharacteristic guilt and shame, before everything goes to crap.

the boat shakes one more ominous time, before the walls and the floor crack open, the water slams in, and everything goes black.

when tim next wakes up, he’s so cold his teeth are already chattering as he blearily blinks his eyes open, and his hand is holding something warm in a death grip. he startles and chokes on water as he feels warmth surround him, but a shaky, gentle voice is quick to reassure him.

“hey hey, kid its okay. me and dad were only able to find two life rafts, so you and your friend are going in this one, and me, my dad, and his friend are going in the other, okay? there’s some food enough for you little guys if you be smart about it, and plenty of water. so just be careful, and we’ll meet you at nearest landfall, okay?” oliver queen is saying in tim’s ear as the young man hefts tim and- oh that’s who’s hand he was holding- bernard into a life raft, smiling at them tightly where he’s bobbing in the water, before giving their life raft a small push and swimming for his own raft a way’s away.

tim coughs and scrambles to sit up so he can hold bernard up - terrified his friend will choke on water while he’s still unconscious. that’s something you can do after almost drowning, right? he thinks he might have read that somewhere during one of the many times he had sat down and read for hours on end while his parents were away. but he’s not sure, and it’s not enough to keep his panic at bay as he and berns idly float through the ocean together.

he tries not to look at the shipwreck of the queen’s yacht, but it’s hard not to. a half-sunken, giant boat with vague blobs floating right next to it that tim thinks might be bodies, parts of the ship still above water on fire. it looks like the titanic in real time, except, obviously the titanic was ten times bigger.

he chokes on a swallow, looking away from the ruins of his happy life with his friend and his family.

he tries to block it out of his mind when he thinks the raft goes by the body of bernard’s father.

bernard wakes up with a cough and spit up seawater, immediately devolving into a panic attack as he sees they’re in the middle of the ocean, not on the boat, and their parents are nowhere to be found.

tim holds him through it, tears sliding down his own cheeks as he tells the other boy to breathe.

“i don’t- i don’t think anyone survived,” tim chokes out, trying to look at bernard and failing miserably. “well i mean i told you- mr. queen and his son survived, and i think, one of their friends? but if- if we’re all that mr. oliver found- then-” tim bites his lip and doesn’t even bother finishing the sentence.

bernard says nothing. he just- shakily takes tim’s hands, and tim tries not to cry again.

days pass, with them trying to rationalize that they can’t go back to the boat and try and save their parents. oliver and his dad would have come across at least one of their parents if they had been alive, seeing as they had all been in the same place when the boat truly collapsed. and besides, oliver had said there were only two rafts, and the one tim and berns were on could barely house them. their best bet is finding land and calling for help. if their parents survived, they might be able to hold out while tim and bern look for assistance.

they barely believe it even as they say it.

they eat, and drink, and look out over the cold, dark ocean in silence. it’s entirely different from the months it had taken to get here. whenever here even is.

finally, an island comes into view. they wash ashore, taking what meager supplies they had leftover in the raft and shoving it into their pockets. they look around, dread filling their stomachs and making their hearts jump into their throats.

past the beach they washed up on, is only forest, for miles and miles and miles. no buildings, no huts, no signs of civilization. tim and bernard hesitantly let go of each others hands as they look around, constantly looking back at each other as they explore the beach. they reach for each other as they stand next to one another again, and tim quietly says, biting his lip, “i’m not liking our odds, bear.”

bear twists his lips, blinking away tears. “me neither, timmy.” tim half heartedly punches his shoulder.

“don’t call me that,” he whines, smiling a little. bear rolls his eyes.

“too bad, timmy, it’s stuck now.”

“what if i called you bernie?” tim snipes, not actually angry. bear mock gasps, gripping his chest.

“tim! why would you ever-?” bernard never finishes his sentence.

And that's the idea that it would be "better" if Tim were not canonically queer

And I think at best it's misguided and lacking context and not looking at the bigger picture

For context, there are two types of queer readings about Tim coming from his earlier comics

One is coming from writers that are largely more conservative, straight men that are doing this very accidentally. Dixon was phenomenally good at accidentally creating homoeroticism in his work (BoP even more so than Robin or any of the other male-lead stuff I think due to his additional issues with writing women without thinking about them as love interests which lead to sooooo many lesbian undertones). Willingham accidentally created one of the strongest accidental queer allegories in Robin with Unmasked. None of this was intentional. We're inferring it.

The other is people that did see Tim as queer and may have cultivated those undertones on purpose. I know at least Freddie Williams II (one of the artists) spoke on social media after Tim was officially canonized that him and some of the writers had openly discussed among each other about Tim being bi in the mid-00's. This was basically, for all purposes, only not official because it wasn't approved by central editorial.

Which brings us to what actually happened. Which was a writer taking advantage of not having to answer to the corporate side of editorial. Fitzmartin, unlike the other writers that would have gladly also made Tim bi, did not need her permission from anyone except her personal editor and just did it.

It's what so deeply frustrates me when people start complaints with "why did DC-" or when they act like it's some sort of queer marketing stunt. "DC" did not make this decision. A writer took advantage of DC not having oversight in a short time period after a chief editor had been fired. This was not a corporate decision.

And make no mistake, the reason corporate positions would never approve of this is not because it's some kind of super queer to not have people officially come out. They don't because they are either queerphobic themselves or afraid of not being able to cater to a full market that includes people that are.

I don't directly want to call anything that was written previously queerbaiting, because I don't think it was the intention of any of the writers to queerbait us. I think it's between writers that had no intention of coming off as queer at all and ones that would love to have made it canon themselves, as described. It wasn't written with the express purpose of advertising to and baiting a queer audience. But corporate is perfectly happy to queerbait us behind the shield of plausible deniability and if you are actively asking for people to never canonize queerness, to the point that you'd prefer they not do so on purpose, but would like to continue getting some form of homoeroticism or queer reading, you are asking to be queerbaited.

And it's frustrating for people to act like representation doesn't matter. Like we haven't fought tooth and nail to obtain the level of representation that we have. Like it isn't still a struggle.

And you can not like how it was handled specifically. You are allowed to not like the specific ship involved if you don't like it.

But to act like it's somehow a worse situation than before - where maybe we read him as queer and maybe some creatives saw him that way too, but he would only ever officially be in relationships where he could be read as straight and never discuss his queerness - is ridiculous to the extreme.

And if you prefer another ship, you can continue to do the same thing you do when he dates girls. Ignore it. Ship whatever you want, it's fan content. That isn't taken away from you. Nothing has been taken away. You don't have to acknowledge the canon ship in your fanworks any more than you did before.

And I think some of where this is coming from is people being very insular with their online communities and finding it very easy to automatically think of characters as queer and not thinking about it as big of a deal as it is. Like I think a lot of people in our fandom spaces barely think of Tim being queer as any different from a character they headcanon as queer. But there is a very big difference.

Visible acknowledged queerness as representation is, in fact, important. We aren't to the point where it isn't important.

And I find the "well it isn't my ship, so I don't want it to exist at all" mentality distressing.

The current canon doesn't undo any of the things you saw before, if anything, it validates them. It was designed in acknowledgement of those things. That we already "knew" Tim was queer. Under the parameters of the characters the writer in question had control over without having to ask for additional permissions. Which is what the whole thing happened under.

And it's not just that Tim is dating a man or generally can date men now, the result is also that we can say words and tell explicitly queer stories. That's permanent. All you need is to get a good writer on that from that point forward. It's not a nebulous area of "will we even get an opportunity to pass approval on this" anymore. So regardless of your opinion of particular writers' handling it, it's still a net win.

reputation Tim Drake x Lover Bernard Dowd

Sometimes, you gotta smash your two favourite things together

but the same stans will then treat kon as nothing more than a gay boyfriend for tim without any character development of his own when they do ship timkon.

Bruce - Capture the Flag & Who is

Dick - Diary of a Wimpy Kid & A to Z Mysteries

Cass - Whatever After & Cam Jansen

Jason - Magic Tree House & Rainbow Magic (he liked having the collection)

Steph - Thea Stilton & Judy Moody

Tim - Genius Files & Geronimo Stilton

Duke - the Curious George books & some random kids’ encyclopedia

Renee - Hardy Boys

thank you @wayne-kententhusiast :D

Last song: The Weight of Dreams by Greta Van Fleet

Favorite color: hot pink

Currently watching: jujitsu kaisen and invincible (when i heard conquest was playing w marks guts i was expecting gay sex)

Current obsession: superbat duhh & reading more comics w the JL

Last google search: alternative words for ‘said’, i realized i use it a lot when writing, so im tryna spice it up ◔̯◔

Currently working on: this lowkey reminds me i have an to finish my artist statement, but as of now im working on drabbles!! teen bruce getting drunk and his hubby coming to his rescue, baby clark getting hurt and his wifey comforting him, and last but not least teen superbat size difference:D they’re kicking my ass, so i keep alternating between them, but it’s so fun!

oop, idk 10 people tbh, i apologize in advance if yall have done this already & no pressure:D besitoss

Alright don't laugh at me 😅

Last Song: The Air That I Breathe, by The Hollies

Favorite colour: Burgundy

Currently watching: Courage the Cowardly Dog, Agatha Christie's Poirot and Spy x family

Current obsession: Superbat(do we really have to ask), cryptid batfam

Last google search: Tim Hortons(?????)

Currently working on: I have a whole bunch of ideas for superbat fics that I have filled my notes app with, but I don't think they are polished enough to post anywhere yet. Here is a small snippet of what I've written so far for one of them.

The peacocking, gallantry of the rich and famous only worked to set Clark's nerves alive and in some cases infuriate him. How so many people could just sit around drinking, talking of nothing while pretending they cared, only to throw less then nothing at whatever problem they used as an excuse to throw the party in the first place. It made Clark see red, especially when it happened in a place like Gotham, where the need was so great and the resources so few. It made him sick to his stomach. No wonder the people of Gotham relied on a guy dressed as a bat of all things to fix their problems. The systems in place sure weren't going to help.

Right, that's it I think. 🤔 I'm pretty antisocial, so I don't think I can name 10 people. 😭 still I'll try for five!

@gotham-blight @jeijeism @darkknight-hero @frownyalfred @nigaki @supermans-babygirl-bruce @brucedefender4eva @thiccpersonality

10 People you'd like to get to know better

Last Song: planet by the neighbourhood

Favorite colour: dark red/forest green

Currently watching: uhhh, technically one piece? but I haven't been keeping up in like...a week

Current obsession: bruce wayne, batman, the prince of gotham, thomas and martha's son, the ceo of wayne enterprise, bryce wayne, clark kent's husband...you get the point

Last google search: fairy dust tinkerbell (I couldn't remember the word 'pixie'...)

Currently working on: au where bruce's parents somehow get magicked back into the living world and they love love LOVE him, but they're not big fans on how his kids treat him, nor bruce's own self deprecating attitude. also, another au where bruce gets turned into a zombie during a breakout but instead of going around and eating people, he protects his kids even if he doesn't have his full cognitive abilities. oh, and I am also actually writing the reverse robins idea as a fic, it's just...going very slowly

I def don't have ten people to tag, but

10 People you'd like to get to know better

Last song: The Other Side

Favorite color: Blue (all shades)

Currently watching: Tensura S4 (waiting for new eps)

Current obsession: Batman, Batfam, Pokemon

Last Google search: Cardinal World scaling

What I'm currently working on: absolutely nothing in terms of writing, just learning game development

10 People you'd like to get to know better

Last song: Porch Light by Noah Kahan

Favorite color: Purple!!

Currently watching: Supernatural season 9

Current obsession: Batfam (obviously) and Heated Rivalry (my god it has taken over my life)

Last google search: “when and where to catch a sturgeon in Stardew Valley” this is my life ig

What I’m currently working on: Chapter 2 of Tim’s Guide to Coming Out Spectacularly (it’s slow going, I’m so sorry)

10 people you’d like to get to know better

Last Song: When She Smiles, Gigi Perez

Favourite Colour: I like all of them, but autumn colours are good :)

Currently Watching: nothing. Which is weird, I’ll have to start something.

Current Obsession: Batfam and Batfam crossovers, Harry Potter fics (not the book, fuck JKR), subnautica YT shorts.

Last Google Search: (subnautica, cause I can spell) otherwise, tyomnaya noch lyrics english.

What I’m currently working on: several oil paintings, learning embroidery to fix my clothes :)

Thanks @ch-charred <3

10 people you’d like to get to know better

Last Song: Little Bug by The Army, The Navy

Favorite Color: ORANGE 😼

Currently Watching: SMOSHHHH

Current Obsession: DC, Guitar, Haikyuu, Stranger things, and *gulps..* Voltron..

Last Google Search: Wish you were here chords

What I'm currently working on: Guitar, and Studying 🤓

Last Song: Reverse byJhariah

Favorite color: White

Currently watching: Informational content on how animal agriculture is draining our resources

Current Obsession: DC lore (Cyrus Pinkney), TimBerKon, agriculture, Hope

Last DuckDuckGo Search: Why is cabbage cheap

What I’m Currently Working On: The Human Conspiracy, a 12 part TimBerKon AU longfic mashing a bunch of DC lore together. It is Bernard centric, suspect it will be at least 400,000+ words

And he feels like the type that, if he doesn't have his preferred weapon you'll wish he did, because he's throwing the book, the table, the scissors, (hes not wasting perfectly good cooking utensils unless absolutely necessary so, 50/50 on a frying pan to the face) slamming your head in the door and tricking you into getting stuck on an unreasonable strong ceiling fan and being trapped up there. He's a gothamite and he's gonna use whatever is in his vicinity to wreck your shit. I need more Bernard being an unhinged and unreasonably skilled fighter.

—

Damian, walking up to Talia: Mother, I finished my arts.

Talia: Oh? May I see?

Damian, holding up an origami bat with an angry scowl: . . . For you.

Talia: Beautiful, my heart. Let us go put it somewhere safe before your next training session?

Damian: Poison tolerance testing again, I assume?

Talia, kissing his forehead: Yes.

One works diligently on my own book with my own characters

The other starts writing DC fanfiction because it yearns for Steph Brown to have as many layers as the other Robins and for Conner to be characterize as more than just 'Both my dads hate me' and 'I love Tim Drake'

It's a tough battle everyday.

However... I also love the taste of fish.

So.. I think from my own perspective.

Being a god of agriculture and seeing potential in Bernard, he wants him to have a legacy (children). Therefore, all contraceptives (hormonal or non-hormonal) used by Bernard are now ineffective.