#nevolition

Re: Jason, I'd def-o say that Damian's bantering with him ("you're dead" "no YOU'RE dead!!") is pretty telling. But i also demand at least one issue/arc with them bro-teaming it up pls thanks DC.

ah shoot you’re RIGHT FRIEND I totally forgot about the scene at the fast food restaurant. aka THE BEST SCENE EVER MADE. I need batfam mundane civilian shenanigans in a canon book PRONTO.

There was also that Red Hood issue before Damian was killed that Jason totally got where Damian and his attitude came from. Maybe that counts too, I dunno haha. Clearly this all means we need more JASON AND DAMIAN BRO TIME IN CANON. 

tinnictheguardian replied to your post: “Not to be contrarian with your answer rather I'm...”

Didn’t Jason and Damian team up as Wingman and Red bird?

Alternate title - One, Two, Three. 

Inspired by @nevolition‘s recent Tim art. I saw it and couldn’t resist. Thankfully, he seems to be down with Jaytim.  

Tim took a deep breath and exhaled to a count of three. One of Tim. Two for Robin. Three for Red. One for Tim. Two for Robin. Three for Red.

Inside his container - room was too nice and cage to medieval - Tim had no real sense of time. Sure, without caffeine he was finally sleeping. But humans naturally revert to a 16 hour sleep cycle without the influence of sun and he was certain he hadn’t seen that  anytime in recent memory so he hadn’t even bothered with trying to keep track of days. Time was an illusion. This container was not.

One for Tim. Two for Robin. Three for Red.

At first, he had tried to find a way out. He had started with where the walls met the floor and ceiling. He had crawled until his knees hurt. Then, he had braced his back against one wall with his feet against the other and climbed. When he got a muscle spasm in his neck he finally came down and slept. Rinse and repeat. He had yet to find even a crack that didn’t form a perfect seam. That was when the claustrophobia hit.

One for Tim. Two for Robin. Three for Red.

Realizing that, finally, he had been trapped. He hadn’t even died. He had just been dumb enough to think he would get to and instead he was locked in the timeless trap of hellhole- One for Tim. Two for Robin. Three for… for Red.

He remembered his trainings. He remembered Bruce carefully inducing a panic state in him with some kind of neurochemical cocktail distilled from fear gas and talking to him as Tim had crawled into the smallest corner under the computer consul that he could wedge his tiny self into. He had hyperventilated and cried and bruised his spine against the metal beams from the force of his shaking as Bruce counted, pulled his shirt tight so Tim could see that he was breathing calmly. ‘One, two, three, there we go Tim.’

Later, when Bruce had ‘died’ and Dick was Batman and there was a new violent Robin, Tim had laid down on the floor of his apartment and tried to remember what Bruce counting sounded like. He tried to picture the blue shirt, the way he had eventually been able to suck in a full breath and let it out in little huffs until he was able to match the set pace. Eventually, he matched the memory-Bruce even by himself on the floor in his apartment. Then he had gotten up, gathered his stuff, and made a new Robin. One that would find Bruce.  

One for Tim. Two for Robin. Three for Red.

And even later, when he had woken up from a nightmare about his Mom and Dad and Connor and Bart and Steph and Bruce and everyone he loved dying, when he had woken up because his brain knew something was wrong and tugged him back into the four am haze, Jason had rolled over in bed and soothed him. He had whispered things about how safe Tim was, about how he was secure and okay in his own bed with Jason to protect him, with Red Hood to protect him, and all he had to do was breathe. Once he could respond at all, Jason had asked check-in questions until he had settled Tim between his legs and back against his chest so Tim could feel Jason rising and falling behind him and he was able to try and press his ribs back against Jason’s with every breath. He had felt Jason’s thumbs rubbing his tears away until they started to fall again, because he had never woken up to someone getting it, cradling him, and comforting him like that and some days he still didn’t think he deserved Jason.

But now that he had been in here long enough to know he needed something more or new or original to break out because the glass seemed pretty damn shatter proof and the cracks hadn’t moved at all and Tim was still sitting on the floor even weaker and paler than before all he could do was try to breathe.

So he thought about Bruce saying his name, telling Tim he was safe there.

He thought about dragging himself up off the floor when everyone he knew and loved was dead. Leaving Tim behind for Robin.

He conjured the ghost of Jason’s warmth and arms and chest and legs around him instead of the cold chill of his container and he breathed.

One for Tim.

Two for Robin.

Three for Red.

He would get out of here. He just had to be patient. He had to have faith. He had to not panic and believe in his own skills and the love of Jason and Dick and Bruce. Seph and Kon and Bart and… everyone. All of the people he had come to love. And who loved him back.

Having a soulmate is rough on its own. It's even more so when your past together is less than stellar. Jason returns to Gotham and finds Tim waiting for him, but he can't fathom why. 

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For JayTim week: Valentine’s Day Edition and @nevolition. Because we both agree that angst is the way to go.

My Tumblr Crushes:

politelyscribblingaway

may12324

nevolition

themyscrian

rainbow-plastic-obsession

frei-rancken

beccas-awful-bangs

navigaero

oh my god what a cute baby (also ur bathroom looks sO COMFY, u need nightlight/candles and chill spotify and some'a that lavender stuff and u will be Royalty)

he is the CUTEST BABY. I call him royal baby and prince baby when he’s being a snot. (I bought him the purple towel specifically BECAUSE of it’s royal connotation haha it’s his favorite thing in the whole world. Got myself in prince damian’s good graces, go me~) 

THE BATHROOM IS SO SMALL. I could lay on the floor and be touching all four walls haha. And purple’s my favorite color! that’s why I got all them purple accessories when I moved here haha. (feeling royal was just an unintended benefit) I put my fave apple cider candle in there last night, and instead of super chill, I watched loud video game let’s plays on youtube. It’s the same right? Maybe next bubble bath, because I definitely need to get back into the habit of taking them! me time is the best time~

http://nevolition.tumblr.com/post/136193103387/sometimes-they-screw-up-sometimes-someone-gets-an

Based on this art by the talented @nevolition!

Jason didn’t often get hit by fear toxin, in all honesty. Tim supposed it had to do with the mask--it usually ventilated it. But if for some reason he was without the mask, he was as vulnerable as any of them--maybe more so, what with vivid memories that made easy fodder for the toxin.

Jason’s eyes were blown, face unmasked in more ways than one--the fear was evident, the way he was trapped as a fifteen year old boy being beaten to death again. 

This time, though, Tim was pretty certain he was robbed of the confidence that Batman would save him.

His teeth seemed to chatter as he tried to speak, body ready to simply give out on him as if he had been struck by the crowbar. He was breathing hard, hands going up to block as Tim came towards him. “No! No! Stop!”

“Jason, it’s me, Tim,” Tim promised, not sure what was reaching him. It could be anything from only Tim’s words to absolutely nothing except a figure moving towards him.

“No! Fuck you, stop it!” Jason said shrilly, panic lacing his voice.

Tim stepped closer, having an antidote in hand. “Stay calm, I’m going to help you.”

“You already killed me, what more do you fucking want?!” Jason almost screamed desperately, and Tim had to wonder if the fear was even more amped up than in the original event. The Joker had made mention of Jason not screaming and crying...but that could be a lie.

And he didn’t want to dwell on that now.

And he took one step too close, and bam!

Tim saw stars.

Jason had a mean right hook.

Still, Tim pushed through the violently bright images in his eyes and managed to get a gentle hold of Jason’s hands. “Hey. Hey, you feel that? It’s me, Tim. Not the Joker. I’ve got you.”

Jason was still shaking so violently, but the dissonance of the gentle touch as compared to his nightmare seemed to help him acknowledge Tim was not the Joker.

And Tim really hoped he was doing this right. He moved in, pulling Jason into a hug as well. Still gentle, still not a hold.

And Jason seemed to almost cling at that point, and Tim wondered who he was seeing.

If it was Bruce.

And he had to dismiss that thought immediately, so he carefully brought Jason to a corner where he could keep watch, and eased him down to the ground, offering small encouragements the whole way.

Jason immediately curled up, into Tim. 

He thought he could feel him crying still, and he gently ran his hand through his hair, petting. “You’re okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

Jason was still shaking, still crying, but he seemed secure.

His next uttering was like a stab to the heart. 

“I knew you’d come.”

Tim had to swallow the lump in his throat, and pet Jason’s head more. It would be selfish to tell him he wasn’t Bruce. He’d just stay here until he came out of it.

He felt like he truly saw the kid Jason had once been. The Jason he’d seen only some of on patrol, catching pictures with his camera. The one who totally trusted Bruce.