Of Gardenias And Dragonflies

Jason please stop aura farming you'll give Timmy too many kinks

"Always Land On Your Feet" (Stray!Tim 'verse) Red Hood and Stray.

Another amazing comm by Estridae.

most hero teams had been called in for an alien invasion. Jason had even been on his best behavior for Tim, gritting his teeth and staying silent everytime something bothered him or pissed him off. and somehow Jason isn't the one who snaps, its Tim. Tim who can't stand the slander against Jason, his intelligence, his skills, his morals. fuck the Bats for their false beliefs and fuck them for spreading that hateful rhetoric that makes it impossible for Jason to find any understanding or friendship within the hero community. and fuck everyone else for believing it before ever even meeting Jason or getting to know him. Tim isn't stupid enough to let himself be distracted by his emotions during the invasion but lecturing but afterwards is fair game.

Tim's team, his friends, are the only ones not surprised about how vicious Tim can be. Tim may hide it but he's definitely morally grey at best and fiercely protective of those he loves. and Kon, Bart and Cassie know that Tim's Jason is someone he absolutely adores. they don't really announce anything but they're the only ones chill enough to move past processing to invite Tim and Jason by proxy to hang out. obvi they invited Jason too. they might only be close with Tim but they know when they're getting a two for one deal and there ain't no way Tim goes anywhere without his Jay.

This is a prompt fill for @jason-flashfic for the prompt Barely legal. Tim is 16 here and Jason is a month away from his 18th birthday. (Age of consent in New Jersey is 16, hence the "barely legal" tag.)

Fandom: Batman Rating: M Word Count: 1,644 Ship: Tim Drake/Jason Todd

Summary: It's the night before Tim's 16th birthday and Jason's having a great time just relaxing on the couch with his boyfriend. At midnight, Tim surprises him with a proposition.

Notes: This is an AU where Jason never died. Tim is still Robin, Jason has his own identity. The details aren't important for this fic.

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Jason had just finished cleaning the pot he'd made dinner in when the door banged open and Tim entered the penthouse. He was wearing nothing but some short jean shorts and a muscle tank that showed off his Robin physique.

"You are here!" Tim grinned at Jason before dropping his bag by the door and bounding over.

Jason obligingly leaned in for a quick kiss and didn't let his eyes wander down to wear the shirt cut out on Tim's sides. "Didn't expect to see you again until tomorrow."

"Bernard, Ives, and Darla took me out for my birthday," he announced, "since Bruce has claimed tomorrow for family. Rather than make Alfred give me a ride back to Bristol, I asked if I could just crash here for the night."

Jason felt a flutter of excitment at the idea of a surprise date night. "That mean I get you to myself?"

Dick: “Dude, if you wanna fuck Tim just go do it.”

Jason: “Ewww no did you not just hear me say I hate him! I need to make him cry.”

Tim: “Please, five minutes with me and you’ll be the one crying.”

Gotham was quiet in that way that meant it wouldn’t stay that way for long.

The clock in the cave read 11:47 PM. Rain tapped against the stone above like someone drumming impatient fingers.

Jason Todd leaned against the Batcomputer console, red helmet resting on the desk beside him. He was loading magazines with the casual precision of someone who had done it a thousand times.

Behind him, the rest of the family watched like they were witnessing a train heading toward a broken bridge.

“Jason,” Bruce said, voice low and measured, “you don’t have to do this tonight.”

Jason didn’t look up.

“Pretty sure I do.”

Dick crossed his arms, leaning back against the railing above the cave floor. “You say that every time before something stupid.”

“Funny,” Jason replied. “I say the same thing about your hair.”

“Low blow,” Dick muttered.

Tim stood closest to Jason, perched on the edge of the console. His staff rested against his knee, forgotten. His eyes tracked every movement Jason made—the way he checked the slide of the pistol, the way his jaw flexed when Bruce spoke.

“You’re going after Black Mask, right?” Tim said quietly.

Jason slid the magazine into place with a click.

“Roman Sionis has been trafficking kids through the Narrows for three months,” Jason said. “We’ve busted his shipments, taken out his crews, and he keeps walking away.”

“That’s not new,” Damian said sharply from the shadows. “Criminals persist.”

Jason finally looked up.

“And that’s why Gotham’s still like this.”

Damian met his gaze without flinching.

Bruce stepped forward. “You’re planning something irreversible.”

Jason smirked slightly.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Alfred cleared his throat softly from the stairs.

Everyone paused. Even Jason.

“If I may,” Alfred said, hands folded behind his back, “history suggests that actions taken in anger often carry consequences beyond the intended target.”

Jason huffed a quiet laugh.

“You quoting Shakespeare at me, Alfred?”

“Julius Caesar, Master Jason,” Alfred said. “Given the date, it seemed appropriate.”

Dick groaned. “Oh no.”

Alfred’s gaze was calm.

“Beware the Ides of March.”

Jason picked up his helmet.

“Yeah,” he said. “That’s kind of the point.”

Tim slid off the console.

“Jay.”

Jason paused.

Tim rarely used that tone—soft but firm, like a hand on the chest stopping someone from walking into traffic.

“You kill Sionis,” Tim said, “you don’t stop the problem. Someone else fills the vacuum.”

Jason turned slowly.

“And if I don’t?”

Tim hesitated.

Jason gestured vaguely toward the city above them.

“Then more kids disappear. More bodies in the river. More mothers waiting at the GCPD desk hoping someone found their kid.”

No one spoke.

Jason’s voice softened.

“You know I’m right, Tim.”

Tim did know.

That was the problem.

Dick pushed off the railing and dropped down to the cave floor.

“You’re talking like the rest of us don’t care.”

Jason shrugged.

“I’m talking like the rest of you won’t do what it takes.”

Bruce’s voice cut through the cave.

“You cross that line, you don’t come back from it.”

Jason met his eyes.

“Pretty sure I already did.”

Silence hung heavy between them.

Tim stepped closer.

“So that’s it?” he asked quietly. “You’re just going to ignore all of us?”

Jason’s expression softened slightly when he looked at him.

“That’s not what I’m doing.”

“It kind of is.”

Jason reached out, brushing his knuckles against Tim’s wrist. The gesture was quick, almost invisible to anyone who wasn’t watching closely.

Tim noticed.

Jason’s voice dropped so only he could hear.

“You know why I have to do this.”

Tim swallowed.

“Yeah,” he admitted.

Behind them, Dick rubbed his face. “This is the worst possible version of couples therapy.”

Damian scoffed.

Jason picked up his helmet.

“Look,” he said to the room, “I appreciate the intervention. Really.”

He put the helmet under his arm.

“But tonight? I’m finishing this.”

Bruce’s jaw tightened.

“If you walk out that door—”

“I know,” Jason said.

He turned toward the stairs.

“Jason.”

Tim’s voice stopped him.

Jason looked back.

Tim held his gaze for a long moment.

Then he said quietly:

“Just… come back.”

Jason’s expression shifted—something softer, something tired.

He nodded once.

“I always do.”

Jason swung a leg over the bike in one smooth motion.

The engine roared to life the moment he hit the ignition—low, violent, reverberating through the cavern like distant thunder. The sound bounced off the stone walls of the Batcave, filling the silence Jason had left behind after their argument.

He pulled the helmet down over his head.

The lenses lit up—two glowing red eyes in the dark.

For a moment he just sat there, hands on the grips, engine rumbling beneath him.

Then he twisted the throttle.

The bike howled.

Tires screeched against the cave floor as Jason peeled out, shooting toward the ramp at a reckless speed. The lights lining the tunnel blurred past in streaks of white as the engine screamed up the incline.

A second later the roar of the bike vanished into the Gotham night.

The cave fell quiet.

Dick exhaled slowly.

“Well,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “that’s… not ominous at all.”

Damian crossed his arms. “Todd rarely does anything subtly.”

Bruce’s gaze lingered on the empty tunnel.

Tim didn’t move.

He was still standing where Jason had left him.

Dick glanced at him. “You okay?”

Tim nodded automatically

Dick laughed nervously.

“Fuck,” he said, “that went about as well as expected.”

Damian crossed his arms.

“He will attempt to kill Sionis.”

“Yes,” Bruce said.

Tim grabbed his staff.

Dick blinked. “Uh… Tim?”

Tim was already heading for the bikes.

“We’re following him.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow.

“Not to stop him,” Tim said.

He paused at the edge of the cave.

“To make sure he survives it.”

Alfred sighed faintly.

the stalker between dicktim is tim. he does that shit since 9. he's lonely and bored and the pretty bird was cool.

the stalker between jaytim is jason. his dad's got a new shiny robin pretending to be him. he's mad but damn he's a pretty bird.

🦇 Announcing our official zine title Red on Red: Urban Legends! 🦇

Thanks to our incredible line-up of contributors, we're proud to announce the TimJay/JayTim Urban Fantasy zine is now officially titled. We're also thrilled to say our NSFW side volume will be named Red Curses and Crimson Kisses. Thanks especially to @chibinightowl and @dopplegangerrights for their winning suggestions!

Our contributors have also been hard at work helping us decide which charity our proceeds will be donated to. We're proud to announce our zine will be supporting Rainbow Railroad, an international human rights organization dedicated to helping LGBTQI+ people get to safety. They work as direct service providers and advocates to address queer displacement and persecution on a global scale. Learn more and donate on their website!